


Nine Months And You

by ImGroovyAndIKnowIt



Series: Nine Months and You [1]
Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Did I mention pining, F/M, Family, Laura's sisters live, Lots of it, Romcom feels, Silliness throughout, There will be pining, Unashamedly Fluffy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Young Bill & Laura, and sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt/pseuds/ImGroovyAndIKnowIt
Summary: After a drunken one-night stand, Laura learns that she's pregnant. As she finds the father again, they don't quite get along but he's in for the ride, no matter what. The last thing they expect is for their hearts to get in the way.
Relationships: William Adama/Laura Roslin
Series: Nine Months and You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213064
Comments: 197
Kudos: 100





	1. One Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Sweet and predictable romcoms take my heart so here is my trying to recreate a fav one! I've wanted for a while to write a lighter story with younger, free-from-most-of-those-Damned-Responsibilities Spaceparents + them starting a family, so this fits! (can't have Lee and Zak though, which is a bit sad)

It started with one night. Drinks, a companion, an argument and a hotel room. 

When Laura woke up the next morning, with an overwhelming headache and a lingering sense of shame, she fled the scene.

She only meant to get one drink and celebrate Sandra's promotion, but she had strong words with a stranger right off the bat, somehow ending in several rounds of steamy sex in his hotel room once her sister left. As you do, right?

Why can't she remember more about that godsdammed night? The amount of alcohol she had is most probably why. It blurs her memories, and she only has a few things to hold on to: his distinct, intoxicating smell, the hickeys on her inner thighs which took a week to fade away, his deep voice that rumbled through her chest and the delicious heat between their bodies as she rode him into oblivion. Not a lot to go on when looking for someone. A name would be helpful.

The late period, the sensitive breasts along with the throwing up in front of her students are what eventually make her take a pregnancy test. The stick doesn't even hesitate or give her any kind of suspense as to what its answer would be. It's as if she's so pregnant even that object can see it from far away, but she doesn't want to.

Pregnant. 

Frak. 

Well yes, frak, that's what got her into this mess. Frak him (gods yes), frak her, frak that ambrosia they'd drunk, frak his smirk, frak his strong hands, frak his too-skilled tongue. Yes, she'd like that.

Focus, Laura. A name. 

If only she could remember a name, that would at least help. She'd have to tell him, of course, regardless of what she would decide to do. That is if she can even track him down. They were both too drunk to think of exchanging numbers, to think of anything else but the connection of their bodies, actually. She's had few one-night stands since breaking up with Shaun, but something in this man both infuriated her and drew her in at the same time - a dangerous combination if ever there was one. 

They were careful, though, and that's what has her huffing and puffing in disbelief. Even too drunk for memories to hang on, she’s too cautious, and on birth control medication, to top it all. Maybe it’s the case of the remaining 1%, - they always say protection is only effective at 99%, but everyone waves it off. If they could see her now.

On top of that, it's only her second year teaching at this university, which means she can't slack off, and now in addition to the classes, the preparation, the marking, the research, and dealing with the headmaster's open flirting, she has a baby growing inside her.

Both her sisters are so busy with Cheryl's wedding preparations - because of course, Laura had to find out about the life-changing event a week before her sister’s other life-changing event - so she keeps quiet, for now. At least, she’s not showing yet, so there’s no risk of her bridesmaid dress not fitting, thank the Gods. 

As she opens her eyes again one morning, a hand on her still-flat belly, the dream of that night where she'd uttered his name is still fresh on her mind. 

Bill. That's what it is. 

She smiles. It's a start.


	2. Eight weeks

Laura is standing before an auditorium full of a hundred students when it happens. So far, she’s managed to keep her morning sickness - which is actually an anytime-of-the-day sickness - out of class, and she feels pretty proud of that. But that morning, she’s probably eaten too fast, a bagel before running to class, and she keeps having to fight back the urge to vomit in front of Literature majors who would probably try to find some meaning she hadn’t intended behind that gesture.

“You make a good point. You’re right that Prima also discusses the human condition and, in a sense, the almost pathological need-” Laura holds a hand in front of her mouth, taking a deep breath and hoping for the wave of nausea to recede. “...of humans to desire what they can’t have.”

She gets through the sentence and rushes to the closest container - the trash bin - to bring her already meagre breakfast back up. This time, at exactly 9:37 A.M, it _is_ morning sickness, not that she’d argue over the semantics as she wipes her mouth and looks back up at a hundred mostly disgusted but intrigued faces.

Maybe it’s time to stop avoiding the issue, especially when she catches the eyes of the university dean at the back of the auditorium. She can’t have him know of her condition. They get along just fine, he knows how to be charming, and even on the side of funny, but she won’t give him a reason to get rid of her like he did with another teacher. 

She finally decides she’s gonna tell Sandra, because the news being only in her head doesn’t change reality anyway.

#

“I’m pregnant.”

It wasn’t so hard to say after all, but Laura waited for a good opportunity to tell her sister the news, and this is it. She didn’t want to tell anyone about this before the wedding, at first, but as Sandra sits in her kitchen and they talk about her son and the twins to come, she knows her sister would have advice to give, being on her second pregnancy. At this point, Laura needs all the help she can get.

A sip of water goes down the wrong way and Sandra coughs loudly. “No, Laura, you mean _I’m_ pregnant,” she gestures to her inflated midsection. “But thank you, I hadn’t noticed. It’s hard to know these days.”

Laura rolls her eyes, bouncing her sister’s almost two-year-old on her lap and he giggles happily. “I’m serious. I took a test. The smiley face on it was very happy for me.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sandra kept saying, her wide eyes on Laura who sent her an impatient glare. “Sorry. I’ll stop. But you’ve got to be kidding me. Are you sure? Have you taken another test? Sometimes there are false positives.”

“So I keep reading, but I’m pretty sure that’s not the case. I can feel it,” Laura says, her glare turning soft when the toddler’s eyes meet hers. Gods, she’s gonna have one of those, and not just on babysitting days.

“Take another one anyway. You never know.”

So she does.

Still positive. It definitely feels like that damn smiley face is questioning her life choices. That’s good, because so is she.

When she joins her sister back in the kitchen, she makes a face. “This is happening. Unless you’re telling me to take a third one because I can have two false positives.” 

“Did you miss your period?”

“I was busy,” Laura replies. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s the beginning of the academic year. And my boss terribly wants to bang me, so I need to prove to him that I’m not just a shell with no brain.”

“It’s not his, though, right?” Sandra frowns, glancing at Laura’s stomach. “And no one who’s a shell with no brain teaches at Delphi University.”

“I haven’t given in to him. Thank the Gods it’s not his,” Laura says, although the actual culprit isn’t much better. Turns out knowing a first name is useless without a last name, and she still has no idea where the father could be, and what he’s actually like. What if he’s a major moron and tries to tell her how to deal with this? What if he’s a psychopath who kidnaps her until she gives birth and then takes the baby away? Okay, she really has to stop watching those serial killer shows late at night.

“Is it Shaun?” Sandra asks again, and is she going to do this with every man that has ever crossed Laura’s path?

“Considering we’ve been broken up for a while now, it’s safe to say no.” 

"I don't know. You guys broke up and went back to each other before."

“I got an invitation to his winter wedding,” Laura says with a shrug. “But no, it's that guy from the bar when we went out and you left after half an hour."

Sandra looks at her, surprised, and even frowning a little. Not reassuring at all. "Oh, _him_?" 

"What? Why do you say it like that? What’s wrong with him?"

Sandra shakes her head as if she thought of something and then decided against it. "I didn't think he was your type, that's all."

"He's not. He was just there and it happened." Laura tries to keep the blush off her cheeks as the memories assault her mind again. Why won’t they go away? She doesn’t actually want them to go away for good; just to be able to store them during the day and take them out again at night, when she could linger and enjoy them.

“Anyway, I can get you an appointment with Leila so you can know for sure,” Sandra offers, which is exactly why Laura decided to tell her now. She needs to be sure before she does anything else, and Sandra’s friend happens to be an obstetrician. Laura’s only meant her once, but she seemed perfectly nice. She’s not making a life commitment to that doctor anyway, she just needs confirmation.

#

Being on that seat with her legs up is as uncomfortable as it gets, but Laura tries not to think about it, counting the tiles on the wall instead. Sandra’s friend is a bubbly woman with a ponytail who will not stop chattering, giving Laura an intense urge to flee, but she’s grateful to be seen at such short notice, so she endures the babbling.

“Mollie’s having twins too, did you know?” Dr Mejia asks, glancing up at Sandra before going back to what she’s doing, and Laura is struck by her ability to have a casual conversation while moving an object inside of her. _Please, go ahead, share the latest gossip, I’ll just be here._

“Shut up!” Sandra replies, her mouth hanging open. She’s on the wrong side of dramatic sometimes. “Her daughter’s only, like what, four months old?”

Dr Mejia nods. “I think so. Some women really get fertile early after birth. How are yours?”

“Oh yeah, they’re kicking like crazy. I can’t believe I’m going to have three boys,” Sandra says. 

Even though it’s deeply uncomfortable and slightly embarrassing, Laura is thankful she doesn’t have to do it alone. Sandra told her husband about the appointment so he’d watch their son, but she swore she wouldn’t tell anyone else until Laura tells her she can, which is good enough. Josh and her never keep anything from each other anyway, they might as well be a package deal. 

“Your parents had three girls, didn’t they?” Dr Mejia says, not really a question. “You’ll have three boys, and maybe Laura will have a girl.”

Laura’s eyes widen. Over the last two days since telling Sandra, she entertained the wild idea that those two pregnancy tests might be wrong and she’s not pregnant, not really. She realises how stupid she’s been when Dr Mejia points to the screen. “So you’re sure?” she asks. 

She’s already gone through a few tests - okay, a lot of tests and exams, including one where the nurse poked her arm three times before finding the vein - since stepping into the doctor’s office, but this one is apparently where they can calculate how far along she is, and the location of the embryo. It’s just her own foolish mind not realising before that this is, in itself, the confirmation she was waiting for.

“This is your cervix,” the doctor pointed, “and that’s your uterus, with the embryo right here. This teeny tiny flicker right here is the baby’s heartbeat. It’s really small right now, but it’s going to develop quickly,” she beamed. “Congratulations!”

Someone ought to have briefed that woman on her situation, but Laura manages a weak smile, her eyes glued to the screen. In movies, it’s always the moment where the woman realises that what’s happening is real and there’s a living being inside her. This is that moment for Laura too, and she fights the urge to rub her belly at the sight of the baby’s - it’s so tiny, though - heartbeat. It’s also always the moment where both parents cry and whisper to each other their undying love, and this is where Laura differs. The crying, she’s doing, yes, but the undying love, well… she’d have to find him first.

Gods, she’s having a baby. 

“I’ll give you a copy, don’t worry,” Dr Mejia keeps beaming at her, and Laura grows even more frustrated, but doesn’t refuse the ultrasound image. It’s what makes this whole thing real. “You’re about eight weeks along,” she adds. “I’ll give you all the information you need if you’d like to step back into my office now.”

Laura looks away from the screen and up at Sandra, but all she can see is her sister’s prominent belly. She quickly does the math in her head: Sandra is five months along now, which means that this will be her in three months.

“Congratulations?” Sandra offers, all the while knowing this is probably not the right thing to say. 

When the doctor puts the machine away and says she can get dressed again, Laura does so with a sigh, her mind overwhelmed with thoughts of swelling, heartburn, labour and pain, and why the frak do people go through this kind of thing?

When they sit at the doctor’s desk, Laura is presented with a lot more information than she can process. Food limitations, exercise, prenatal vitamins, appointments, leaflets, sex, work, stress. She gets the gist, though: no sushi, no alcohol, no raw meat or fish or eggs, cut back on coffee, no smoking, taking vitamins - she’s especially interested in the one who supposedly helps reduce nausea. It’s a lot of things not to do, but just thinking of food makes her want to throw up again anyway. 

She’s always wanted to be a mother, one day. It’s always been one day, when the right moment comes. But she’s been studying, writing a dissertation, then looking for a job, focusing on that critical first year as a new professor, and now the second one with a research paper to be published in an academic journal, and the right moment never comes.

Maybe life is tired of waiting for her to think the moment is just right.

“I also have information for the father on the do’s and don'ts and how to best support you during this time,” Dr Mejia continues. 

“I’m not sure where he is,” Laura replies truthfully and the doctor does her best to hide her surprise.

“Okay. That’s okay. Would you like me to walk you through your options?”

Her options. Keep it or abort, essentially. She hasn't really thought about that yet. She was too busy freaking out about having life inside of her to consider taking it away. It would solve her problem and soothe her worries, for sure. She wouldn't have to tell her job anything, she wouldn't have to look for the father, to get on a strict diet, to get fat and tired and in pain. But she glances at the ultrasound image in her hand, and... she's always wanted to be a mother. 

“No, thank you.”

When they get out of the doctor’s office, an eternity later, Laura turns to her sister. “Do you remember anything about him?” she asks. Eight weeks. She needs to find that man. “I was drunk, but you weren’t.”

“You weren’t drunk either when I left. I didn’t let you drink, since I couldn’t,” Sandra points out. “I don’t know. We’re talking about the black-haired one, right? Not the other one? I think they were both Colonial Fleet.”

Gods, her baby’s father is a soldier. Things keep getting better and better. The fleeters are notorious for frakking anything that moves when they’re on leave before going away again, and now she has become an honest-to-the-gods cliche. 

Many she doesn’t need to find him that badly after all. Still, she wonders. “How many Bill can there be in the Colonial Fleet?”

Sandra shook her head, and yes, Laura’s aware she’s being stupid again. There’s no way she’ll find anyone on a first name alone. “You’d have to look at Bill and at William and at every other name that could be shortened to that.” They’re silent for a while, and Sandra hums in thought before she spoke again. “He had a last name with lots of vowels.”

Laura sends her sister a disbelieving look. She's not going to go far with that. “What would I do without you?” she jokes.

Sandra laughs. “Hey, that’s more than you remember.”

“I remember plenty, just not that.”

“Mmh, keep that to yourself, thanks.”

This time, Laura laughs, and it feels good to alleviate some of the pressure. “You wish you had those memories.”

“So do you, apparently,” Sandra replies. “Oh wait, I think they were A’s. He has a name with a lot of A’s.”

A name with A’s doesn’t help her any more, but Laura takes it, hoping it will jolt her memory. It doesn’t.

She needs a new strategy, but that’ll have to wait until after the wedding. They’re all staying in Caprica City for the next few days, and there’s no way she’s telling their father before she’s made a decision and hopefully found her soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Laura's family for once is so much fun!  
> Also, yes, this story will have babies everywhere haha


	3. Adama (with many A's)

**Week 9**

Her dress still fits. 

Laura feels heavier already, but at least, her bridesmaid's dress doesn't let anything show. She stands at the front of the temple, with Cheryl’s bouquet in her hands as her sister recites her wedding vows. She’s not sure if it’s the damned hormones already or hearing people tying their lives together in front of the Gods, but tears are suddenly streaming down her cheeks, and she’s grateful for Sandra’s advice to keep a tissue on her. 

She dabs at her cheeks and eyes, conscious of her - thankfully waterproof - makeup. It’s strange that both her younger sisters are now married. At least, she’ll beat Cheryl to children. She snorts, that’s not a competition she thought she’d win. It’s not a competition at all. 

After the ceremony, they all make it to the hotel Cheryl hasn’t stopped talking about for the last year where her wedding reception is held. Laura spends the first half an hour coordinating drinks and food with the caterer, solving last-minute issues, and then finally settles into conversation with a distant relative. She sees Shaun and his fiancee, and remembers she told Cheryl months ago that it was fine to invite him - he was Cheryl’s friend before being Laura’s disaster boyfriend anyway, so she couldn’t tell her no.

“Laura,” he smiles at her, and they embrace awkwardly. “You look good.”

“So do you,” Laura replies politely, and it’s not a lie. He does clean up pretty well. “I didn’t get to congratulate you on the engagement.”

“Thank you. Did you receive the invitation?”

“I did, thank you,” Laura nods, and suddenly realises how far along she’s gonna be for his wedding in four months. Maybe she won’t go, she’s always found it weird to invite exes to one’s wedding anyway. “I’ve been busy and forgot to RSVP, but I’ll get right on to it.”

Shaun nods, looking at her, and does she _look_ pregnant? Because she feels like he can see it. “What’s new with you?” he asks. 

“Same old,” she replies, in the understatement of the year. 

She grabs a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and brings it to her lips before it dawns on her. She can’t have that. She turns around to put it back on a table or another, sighing at the seven months of fruit juice and water that await her. 

Shaun looks at her curiously, and she leaves him to take a walk through the gardens. The afternoon air is hot and stuffy, even for September, and she desperately needs a break. It helps that the hotel has sumptuous gardens with perfectly-maintained alleys, trimmed bushes and vibrant patches of flowers she can get lost in. Laura walks until the noise of conversation has died down a little, and sits down on the edge of a fountain, dipping her hand in the cold water. It feels good on her overheated skin. 

That's when she sees him. 

It's only his back at first, but somehow, that's enough. He stands proud and confident, wearing the ceremonial outfit of the Colonial Fleet, and that’s another clue. It could be any black-haired Colonial officer, but she's sure it's him, while at the same time not believing her eyes. His voice reaches her ear, deep and commanding, the one that whispers to her in her dreams, and any doubt that remained is swiped away. What are the odds of finding the man she's been searching for at her sister's wedding? Frak, now she actually has to tell him; no backing away. 

Cheryl is nearby, getting her wedding photos done in the backdrop of the gardens, and Laura hurries over. She waits for a pause in the shots, and asks, "Cher, who's that man over there?"

Cheryl looks to where Laura points and thinks for a moment, taking a sip of the glass her now-husband hands her. "Oh yes, that's my colleague's boyfriend. Or, I don't know what they are. Do you know him?" 

She's having a baby with him, but she doesn't know him, no. "Not really," she replies. "What's his name?" 

"Bill Adama. I remember that because he wasn't supposed to come and we had to accommodate the seating chart," Cheryl says, still somewhat grumpy about it.

Adama. Laura wants to laugh, and she lets herself. That's the last name with a lot of A's that Sandra was talking about. She's not wrong, it is full of vowels.

Her feet and her brain don’t seem to agree as she keeps looking at his back. Her brain wants to get it over with and tell him now, but her feet react first and take her away. Doing so, she almost runs into Sandra who drops her cheese canape on the ground.

"Adama," Laura says without preamble as her sister glances mournfully at the food. 

"What?"

"His last name." 

Sandra’s eyes snapped back up to Laura’s face. "So you remembered?"

"No, but he's here."

Laura discreetly points, and Sandra's gaze follows it. He still hasn't turned around, and she doesn't know if she wants him to or not. Her brain is catching up, and won’t let her feet take control anymore. Her heart thunders in her chest, and her mind is pestered with all the different ways she can tell him about the baby. 

Sandra has to go and prevent her son from drinking in the fountain, and Laura’s alone again to stare at Bill’s back.

Does he even remember her? Perhaps she’s not as memorable as he was, and they did drink a lot. He's a fleeter, which means that what they had, he has every time he's on the planet. And knowing he’s there with his girlfriend makes her want to leave and not turn back.

As if he heard her thoughts, he turns around and their eyes meet. They stare at each other and the nervous flutter in Laura's stomach is quickly wanting to turn into another bout of nausea. She clenches her jaw. Not now. 

Yes, he remembers her, no doubt about it, and judging by the lack of expression on his face, she assumes he's not happy to see her there. This should make her life easier. If he doesn’t want to be involved, she doesn’t have to care what he thinks. 

#

Laura Roslin.

Bill hasn’t forgotten a thing about her, from her perfume to the taste of her lips, and somehow, he finds himself staring into her eyes again.

She looks even more radiant now than he remembers, even though the black top she wore at the bar showed considerably more cleavage than her soft pink dress does now. Her fiery hair is up into an elaborate updo, far from that night and the tousled curls that fell over her naked shoulders. 

Sometimes, Bill wishes he was the type of person who loses memories when they drink too much. But no, everything is as clear as day, and as pathetic as it sounds, he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her. On a normal day, thinking about the movements of her hips and the moans tearing from her throat is distracting enough, but now she’s in front of him again, and his trousers can’t hide anything. _It’s just lust_ , he reminds himself. _We can’t actually stand each other_. That night, they argued about the needs of a strong military in times of peace, and neither could claim victory when the discussion ended in a bruising kiss.

The memory of her in his hotel bed deciding he wasn't going at the pace she needed and flipping them over, even now makes him painfully hard. She knew exactly what she wanted and used him to get it, and he still feels strangely flattered. 

He wanted to find her again back then, but the fact that he's been away, and that he shouldn't have slept with her in the first place stopped him in his tracks. He's searched for her online though, and knows everything about her, like a creepy stalker. She's a literature professor at Delphi University, has two sisters, did her dissertation on the impact of mystery novels of the last century on classical literature, seen through the prism of Edward Prima's work. On top of being a creature of beauty, she has an incredible brain.

The moment hangs, and is broken when she turns around and walks away.

The moment it takes Bill to gather his thoughts means that Laura’s almost out of sight already, and his stomach tightens. Carolanne is still talking to someone next to him, and he can’t bring himself to care about the conversation anymore. They’re broken up anyway… again. He shouldn’t have been forced to come to this wedding since they weren’t together anymore, but his girlfriend had kicked up such a fuss a while ago to get him on the guest list that he just had to be there. 

Carolanne and his relationship is something no one can really understand, not even him. They’re obviously not meant for each other, going as far as making each other miserable, yet they keep trying. On, off, on, off, on, off, like a malfunctioning light switch. It was off when he slept with Laura, but he definitely feels like someone who's cheated, even though his father would argue on the technicality that he was, in fact, broken up at the time. It doesn't matter. They're broken up now, once more, and probably for the last time. 

He excuses himself and goes in search of Laura, but can’t find her anywhere.

It’s only when they take their seats at dinner that he sees her again, sitting two tables away from him. She looks paler than before, and, with a frown, he wonders if she’s sick. He keeps stealing glances at her throughout dinner; the food is absolutely delicious, but she barely eats, pushing vegetables around her plate with her fork.

The dance floor is opened right before dessert, and Bill sees it as his opportunity to approach Laura again. She’s here - like an idiot, he only realised this was her sister’s wedding when he saw _Cheryl Roslin_ written on the menu - he’s here, and he wants to talk to her. It’s not more complicated than that. He stands up, and makes his way over to her table, attracting the attention of the woman sitting next to her. 

"Miss Roslin, may I-" he starts, and Laura looks up at him. 

"Dr Roslin," she corrects. "And I think we got to first name basis, haven't we, Bill?"

They definitely did get to first name basis. He distinctly remembers uttering hers a good number of times during their night together. 

"Laura, may I have this dance?” Bill asks, holding out his hand. She glances between his face and his hand, hesitating, before she gives him a small smile and stands up, placing her hand in his. A jolt of electricity goes through him, and he has to suppress a shudder. Touching her hand shouldn’t have this effect on him, but it’s so tightly linked to the memories of the last time he’s touched her that he can’t help it. 

They move to the dance floor where a few other couples were dancing, and he puts his other hand on her back. 

"How have you been?" Laura asks, starting the conversation he didn’t know how to begin. 

"Still in the military," Bill teases, but her confused glance makes him wonder what she actually remembers. 

She obviously remembers some things; his name, for one, and with the look they shared in the gardens, he’d bet she remembers at least some parts of the night. But maybe she's one of those people who gets a leaky memory when drunk. A fleeting but powerful thought goes through his mind, to take her away in one of the rooms upstairs and remind her _exactly_ of what they did a few weeks ago. 

"I'm pregnant," Laura blurts out. 

Bill’s brain, the same one that was supplying images of her curves and the adorable mole at the base of her spine a second ago, simply short-circuits. It's too much of a stretch for it to go from desire to father in a single second. It’s not at all a stretch, actually. It’s exactly where babies come from, but he’s not ready to hear that.

"What?" he manages to utter. 

"You heard me," she says impatiently and stops dancing, taking a step back to look at him properly. "I'm pregnant. You and I are having this baby."

A baby. With him. He probably reacts in the worst way possible when he asks the first thing that comes to his mind, "Are you sure it's mine?" 

The glare she gives him burns through his soul and he's pretty sure if they were on his ship, she'd have thrown him out the nearest airlock. 

"Frak you," she says instead, the tiniest flicker of hurt breaking through the angry facade. "I only told you out of courtesy, but I don't expect anything from you, don’t worry about that. If you don't think it's yours, then there’s no problem." 

And then she's gone and Bill's head is spinning. What the frak just happened?

Parenthood. He's not ready for that, can’t think of himself as a father. He’s reckless, first of all, and half of his free nights are still spent drinking with Saul, like the night he met her. But he guesses she's not ready either, and probably a lot more scared than he is. 

He sighs. Now, to find her again. 


	4. The strawberries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura blames hormones for everything

**Week 10**

If there's anything that Laura won't be, it's desperate. That, and a homewrecker.

How dare he, who cheated on his girlfriend, accuse her of sleeping around enough not to know who's the father of her baby? She may have overreacted to his question, and even Sandra asked it too, but she’s gonna blame the hormones on this one.

What was she expecting of this anyway? That he’d leave his girlfriend and be at her side for the next seven months? And then what? No, that was just silly. She meant it, she only really told him out of courtesy, because it’s the right thing to do. She doesn’t need anyone.

She sits on the couch with a notebook and makes a list of what she needs to do before the baby comes, because everything is easier with lists. She scribbles the obvious things and those that Sandra said, and browses the internet for more. She ends up with at least three pages of notes, and wants to cry. There’s thirty more weeks to do all of that. 

She’s writing _Find a house with more room_ on the list when the doorbell rings. She checks the time, sighs and gets up. It’s 9 P.M on a Friday night, and there’s no reason for anyone to be knocking at her door. She was actually hoping to soak in a hot bath as soon as that list was done. So she considers not answering, those damn thriller shows still playing on her mind, but the ringing starts again, and she figures she’ll just go and see who’s there. 

Looking through the peephole, her heart does a little jump when she sees the distorted image of her baby’s father. There’s something in his hands. When she opens the door and looks at the object in question, she realises what it is. A bowl of strawberries. 

She looks at Bill in utter confusion, first, because she never told him where she lives, and second, because of the obvious: the strawberries in his hands. Did he think they were going to have a picnic at this hour? Surprisingly, though, the thought of eating it doesn’t make nausea rise like the dinner she ate two hours ago and could only keep half of. “Hello,” she says.

“Hi, Laura. Can I come in?” Bill asks, and Laura opens the door wider to let him in. “I know it’s late, and it’s been a week since you told me you were pregnant, but I just got back, and I thought we could talk.”

Laura closes the door behind him and locks it. “We do need to talk,” she agrees. “Is this the dinner you forgot to eat on the way?” she asks, looking at the bowl in his hand.

Bill’s lips stretch into a smile, and he hands her the bowl. “This is for you. I heard women love strawberries when they’re pregnant. I thought you might enjoy it.”

Laura can’t help it, she gives a short laugh and smiles at him. The look he gives her in return is nothing short of reverent, and her heart does a little flutter. Even though it’s cliche and just on the side of strange, it instantly makes her feel better, knowing he cares enough to bring her something he thought she might enjoy. “That’s sweet of you, thank you.”

Once she’s washed the strawberries, she brings them out as they both sit on the couch with cups of herbal tea, the only one that’s managed to soothe her stomach so far. Bill unbuttons his jacket, and she gets a flashback of doing that herself. She shakes her head.

“How did you know where I live?” she asks, sitting sideways with her legs crossed so she can still face him.

“We were both at your sister’s wedding. My ex knows her,” Bill says, and yes, she knows that. That’s not the question, but he doesn’t elaborate. If he bothered Cheryl on her honeymoon for that, she must have been really angry, first at Bill, and then at Laura for not telling the news. “We might have got off on the wrong foot here. I'd like to get a chance to talk about, well, the baby.”

His ex. He broke up. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.

“Do you still think it’s not yours? Shall we ask the entire male population of Caprica to come in for a paternity test?” Laura asks, only half-serious and she sees a muscle tense in Bill’s jaw.

“For fra-” he stops, and starts again once he’s regained some sense of calm. “Look, this is a legitimate concern,” he says briskly. “We don’t know each other, and maybe this isn’t new to you, but it’s new to me.”

Laura tries to tame down the flame of annoyance that’s ignited inside her. She didn’t used to be this easily upset, but this is a unique situation in which she’s vulnerable and doesn’t need anyone’s judgments. She takes a sip of her drink to let the moment stretch. “I’m sure it’s yours,” she says, at last. “And yes, I’m sure I’m pregnant, I saw a doctor. And yes, I’m keeping it.”

Bill’s eyes left her face to settle on her belly. She’s wearing an outfit that will not fit anymore once she starts showing, so she takes advantage of the time she has left now. “Alright,” he just replies. Laura raises an eyebrow, wondering why she thought she was going to have to fight him on this. He doesn’t seem too unreasonable, or one of those men who’d try to make the decision for her. No, he accepted it. So far, so good. Well, not good, just... okay. “You said you saw the doctor. Do you know when we’re expecting it?”

We. Hearing him say that is weird, but not unwelcome. She could use ‘we’.

“April 8th,” Laura answers, and he nods. They’re both quiet for a moment, and Bill keeps staring at her stomach as if the baby was going to pop right out the next second. “Bill. My eyes are up here,” she says, but this time, it’s with a playful smile. “You can’t see much now. It’s still early, but give it a few more weeks.”

“Can I touch it?” Bill asks tentatively, and Laura expected that, so she nods. 

He places a gentle hand on her midsection, and it’s not like he hasn’t touched her before, but this time, it feels different. He keeps his hand over her shirt, but the warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric. There’s only the slightest roundness to her lower abdomen that she’s not sure he can even feel over her shirt. When he looks back up at her face, his eyes hold an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. 

“It’s only the size of a strawberry at the moment. Can you grab this notebook?” Laura asks, pointing to the one on the coffee table. Bill’s hand leaves her stomach - she instantly misses it - and hands her the notebook. She shakes her head. “On the front page,” she directs, and sees the exact moment he sees what she wanted to show him. “It’s for you… if you want it. I made another copy.”

“Is this…” he trails off, and she hums a yes. “Thank you, Laura.”

She can’t resist and rests a hand on his arm, giving him a smile when he eventually looks up from the sonogram picture and at her again. Laura takes the bowl of strawberries she still hasn’t touched and pops one into her mouth as a distraction from the emotions on his face. It’s just ripe and the taste explodes in her mouth, so she hums in delight and eats another one. The third one, she picks up and holds to Bill’s lips, holding his gaze until he took the fruit into his mouth. 

“It’s yours,” he protests as he chews on the berry.

“It’s too much for just me,” Laura explains, eating one and holding one out for him. This time, he doesn’t take it, and she shakes her head. “Why do you have to be this stubborn? It’s just a strawberry.”

“Then eat it.”

Laura huffs, but eats it. The next one is too big to eat at once, so she bites down on it. WHen some red juice slips past her bottom lip to her chin, she lets it, wondering what Bill will do. He follows the drop with his eyes, and she gives a small smirk as she wipes it off and licks her lips. He might regret not eating more now.

Bill shifts on the couch and clears his throat, going through the notebook pages instead of looking at her. He has more control over himself that she gave him credit for, actually. She half-expected - and wanted - him to follow the path with his tongue. She forcefully takes her mind out of the gutter and notices he’s looking at the list she wrote.

“Find a house with more room,” Bill reads aloud. “Are you planning on moving?”

Laura nods, setting down the half-empty bowl to take a sip of her drink. “Yes. My lease is up for renewal in two months for this place, and I want to have a house with a room for the baby and a garden that’s close to good schools.”

“Good schools. You’re really thinking ahead.”

Laura shrugs. “I have to, don’t I?”

“I’ll help you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Laura, I want to be there for you. I want to be a part of our baby’s life,” Bill says, his blue eyes holding a depth she didn’t suspect. “I’m here. Whatever you need. Tell me. I can bring you strawberries every day.” 

It’s nice to know Bill will support her. That is, if they can avoid screwing this up by jumping at each other’s throats, or jumping each other, period. She gives him a genuine smile and places her hand on his. “Thank you,” she says, giggling at the thought of having a bowl of strawberries on her doorstep every morning. Well, if it ends up being the only thing she can keep down, she might consider it. “I appreciate it. I also want you to be part of the baby’s life. I was planning to tell you before we met again, but… I forgot your last name, and you don’t want to know how many Bills there are in the Colonial Fleet.”

Bill chuckled. “I can imagine.” He looks back at the list. “Buy new bras. They do look bigger than last time.”

“You are truly a man, aren’t you?” Laura asks with a shake of her head, a grin on her lips. She keeps switching between appreciative and frustrated like a weather vane at the fact that he watches her so intently. She’s not sure what to make of it.

Bill shrugs. “They were already amazing before, and the way you-” he stops himself and swallows. Laura burns to ask him to finish that sentence, but she doesn’t. “Print a list of food and other things to avoid,” he keeps reading. “Are there so many of those things?”

Laura sighs, still mourning the loss of sushi for the next however many weeks. “Hang on to your seat. This is only what I remember, but there’s more. I can’t eat sushi, I can’t smoke, I can’t drink, I can’t have raw meat or eggs,” she groans. “What the frak can I do?”

“Have sex?”

It takes Laura so much by surprise that she laughs before she catches herself and sends him an unimpressed look. “Very funny.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Bill says, and his eyes follow each of her movements as she eats more of the fruits, giving her the urge to blush as red as those strawberries.

Laura changes the subject, resisting the need to wipe the smirk off his lips with her mouth. “The next doctor’s appointment is two weeks, if you’re interested.”

“Of course, I am.”

“I’ll write down the info for you.”

Bill nods, then his face turns sour. “I think I’ll be in space then,” he frowns. 

Laura hides her disappointment as best as she can. Having a baby with a fleeter who’s away most of the time really was her best idea. “Of course,” she replies anyway. 

“I’ll try to find a solution.”

“There’s no solution, it’s your job,” Laura argues. “I told you I understand.”

“And I told you I’ll find a solution,” Bill answers, his sharp eyes going back to hers.

Laura takes a breath, then picks up one of the few strawberries left and holds it to his mouth. “Open up,” she orders. 

“Still yours,” Bill replies, his voice coming out rougher now. 

"I can do this all night," Laura insists, even though that’s not what she wants to do.

There’s a definite shift in the atmosphere, and it’s not just about the strawberries anymore. The lust clouding Laura’s eyes is reflected in his, and her breath quickens, blood pumping faster in her veins and rushing down. 

She's surprised when Bill takes the fruit into his mouth, and even more so when his lips suddenly crush hers and he pushes her back on the couch. He keeps himself above her, leaning on his forearms and pushes the strawberry back into her mouth.

Laura frowns but has no choice but to chew and swallow it, and Bill's smirk is in full swing. "I see you're willing to cheat," she grumbles. 

"I never said I would play fair," Bill replies, managing a shrug. 

The weight of his body on top of hers feels so good, and Laura blinks up at him, a rush of arousal heating her entire body. She looks away, knowing that if they have sex again, it could throw off their relationship, the fragile agreement they’re trying to come to. Bill's not faring any better though - as evidenced by the way he's sitting on the couch one second and hovering on top of a startled Laura the next - and every beat of his heart sends pure shots of desire through his veins until all he wants to do is pin her down and make them both see stars.

They give in to the urge at the same time when he all but rips off her top and she desperately tugs at his, and the need for less clothing is decidedly the only thing they can agree on. Laura's skin burns everywhere he touches and she pulls him ever closer, not content with the amount of clothes he’s still wearing. She finally got rid of anything that prevents her from touching the bare skin of his back when something hits her face and confuses her for a hot second. 

"What the-" she curses, catching sight of the piece of metal dangling from Bill's neck. Colonial Fleet. Dog tags. Of course.

Bill has obvious trouble holding back a laugh, and she wants to be mad, wants to hit his face and push him away, but then he lowers his mouth and the cool metal rests on the heated skin of Laura's chest. She digs her nails into the flesh of his back when he sucks on the pulse at her throat and thrusts his hips against her in a taste of what they're both desperate to do.

“At least we don’t have to be careful, you’re already pregnant,” he remarks, but Laura doesn’t have it in herself to glare at him when he rolls his hips like that and nibbles on the delicate skin of her neck.

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving, aren’t you?” she gasps and feels him chuckle.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” Bill says around a growl, as he licks and bites a line down her chest, going between her breasts when she forces him to avoid her over-sensitive nipples. His kisses turn gentler when he reaches her stomach, then he unbuttons her trousers and slides them down her legs along with her panties. He settles between her thighs and she groans at the sight of him there, long before she writhes and arches into his mouth when he applies his tongue _right_ where she wants him. The memories that have haunted her for weeks don’t do him justice at all, and he knows it. 

It’s not long before she grabs his hair to pull him back and scrambles to get rid of his trousers. She’s too wound up to go slow and enjoy whatever was on his mind. She’s not waiting any longer. He wants to check, wants to make sure she’s ready and some other things she barely listens to, but she reaches over to stroke him, and finds he’s more than ready too. As their bodies come together and he gasps into her mouth, she moans his name, a name she’s not going to forget ever again. 

She barely knows him, and this isn’t the way to start a relationship as co-parent, but she blames the hormones. Always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story might as well be a pamphlet titled 'So you can't keep your hands (and other body parts) to yourself'...


	5. Heart

**Week 11**

"She drives me crazy,” Bill says as he downs another shot. Other crew members are playing a very loud game of cards next to them, so it’s too loud for anyone but Saul to hear what he says, a fact for which he’s profoundly grateful.

“Come on, Bill, you're frakking with me, aren’t you? She’s not really pregnant,” Saul presses, still not able to believe that Bill knocked someone up. What a fool. “Or she's frakking with you."

“That last part is very true, she does do that,” Bill nods, smugness threatening to tug at his lips. Saul makes a horrified face for good measure, but claps him on the back and refills both their glasses.

“What are you gonna do?” Saul asks, to which Bill shrugs.

“Whatever I can. Help her,” Bill says, then freezes, the glass midway to his lips. "Frak, should I marry her?" 

It's fleeter 101 not to knock anyone up, but somehow he's not used to the regular one-night stands the other pilots constantly brag about. That’ll teach him. He has a feeling she won’t want to marry - and why him when she could have the twelve worlds at her feet? - but what if she does and he never asks?

Saul shrugs. "Why do you ask me? Ask her. I asked Ellen.”

Bill raises an eyebrow, staring at his friend. “You finally did? Congratulations!” They clink their glasses together and drink some more.

“Thanks, we almost ended up in jail afterwards. I asked in the park, and she got into celebrating right away. That was a weird place anyway.”

Bill snorts a laugh. "We did it on top of her washing machine before I left." Somehow, there's a moment of complete silence when he says that, and every officer's head turns to him. "What are you looking at?" He barks even as the top of his ears burn, and Saul erupts in a loud laugh. 

“Come on, _dad_ , you’re gonna need it.” Saul fills up Bill’s glass again, and he can’t argue with that. He’s gonna need it. 

They join the other officers playing triad, and they’re all too happy to tease Bill about his sex life now. His patience quickly wears thin.

“Tell us, Captain, kitchen table, yay or nay?”

“How about a bathtub?”

“Beds are so overrated, am I right?”

Bill greets his teeth and doesn’t reply. They did make it to the bed once, so joke’s on them.

“Give me her number, I’ve never tried washing machine.”

The last one made Bill’s blood boil at the implication that Laura would be with anyone else and he stood up abruptly, towering over the officer at his right. They look at each other for a moment while everyone else holds their breath, ready to intervene if it were to come to blows. The other man cowers slightly under Bill’s menacing glare, bringing up his own glass to take a sip.

“Adama, don’t be like that,” someone says as Bill turns to leave. He doesn’t care who it is. 

What the frak is he doing? As if he had any say over what, or who, Laura does. The only link between them is the baby growing inside her, but that doesn’t give me other rights. That’s the only reason she keeps him around. If they married, though, then it would only be him… he’s had too much to drink anyway, and makes the more reasonable decision to hit the rack. 

The next day, he walks to the CIC with a mission, his mind on Laura and her doctor appointment next week. He told her he’d make it, and now he needs to make sure he can. He wants to be there for her, but she never seems to believe him. He’d show her, then; show her she can trust him, rely on him. That’s the only thing he can do.

He stops once he’s in front of Commander Nash and salutes. “May I have a word, sir?” he asks, and after a few seconds, Nash nods and takes him to a quieter corner. 

“I’m listening.”

Studying Commander Nash in front of him, Bill wonders if he'll ever make commander, and the answer is painfully obvious. Not if he takes a step back and spends less time on the ship to be with Laura like he said he would be. She hasn't asked him to, and he doesn't think she'll ask him for anything, but he needs to be there nonetheless. He’s heard too many terrible pregnancy stories from his peers over the years and will do anything to make sure that’s not Laura’s experience. He’d rather she doesn’t hate him for the entire time they’re tied together. 

"I’d like permission to be on leave on the 27th. There’s an appointment at the obstetrician I need to go to,” Bill says, and maybe he should’ve spent a few seconds explaining, because the Commander looks at him with a half-curious, half-amused expression. 

“Are you pregnant, Captain?” Nash asks.

Bill bites the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t snigger. “Sometimes, I think she’d prefer if I was,” he replies, “sir.”

“So did my wife,” Nash replies, and the sharing of personal information from the Commander is so rare that it breaks through Bill’s neutral stance and he raises an eyebrow. “When is this?”

“On the 27th at 1100.” 

Someone calls for the Commander, and Nash sends them away, turning back to Bill. “Granted, but I need you back here for evening shift. You’ll take a Raptor that’s up for repairs with you.”

#

Laura gathers her class notes and leaves the auditorium, heading for her office. She has an hour before her next class and intends to eat that sandwich she didn’t get to at lunch. Granted, it’s 4 PM, but better late than never. The irregular eating schedule probably doesn’t help with nausea, but there’s no way she can remember a routine when she’s this busy. She has more classes this year than last, and tries to get regular assignments out in order to prepare the students. That means a lot more work, but surely, it will pay off when they pass the finals. 

Some students still look at her funny as she walks the corridors of the university, because the story of how she threw up into a bin three weeks ago reached the entire student body before she could say ‘pregnancy’. Not that she’d say that; in fact, she specifically intends _not_ to say it. Laura’s phone rings and she picks it up, seeing her sister’s name.

She grabs the key to her office as she answers and opens the door, “Hello?”

“Hey, are you busy?”

The twins caused hypertension, so the doctor required Sandra to take it easy and get off work already, and she’s completely bored. It’s something that, Gods, Laura hopes isn’t going to happen to her, because she intends to work until her waters break. But then she’s not having twins, so she has that going for her. 

“I’m not in class for the next hour,” Laura tells her, stepping into the office. She goes to her desk and all but collapses on the chair. Perhaps eating earlier would have been a good idea after all.

“You didn’t finish telling me the Bill story last time,” Sandra says, and yes Laura remembers them being interrupted by having to rush to the bathroom.

“Right. I don’t remember what I was saying.”

“He came to see you after Cher gave him your address and you talked about the baby,” 

“Mmh I remember. So he brings strawberries, which was sweet. And I thought they would be wasted, but I actually managed to keep it down. I forgot what that was actually like.”

“The next part is wanting to eat everything you see, so we’ll see which one you prefer,” Sandra says and Laura groans loudly. So apparently, there’s no middle ground. “Being pregnant isn’t that bad.”

If her sister was there, Laura would give her a look that’d make her regret her words. “You’re married, and Josh will literally do anything you ask,” she scoffs. “Hard to compare with me.”

“Did you want to be married?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Laura replies, taking a bite of her sandwich. She’s had to go for chicken, since the mere presence of tuna in any room is enough to make her stomach turn. 

“Anyway, he brought you strawberries. That’s so adorable. See, Josh doesn’t bring me strawberries…” Sandra says as if that changed anything. “Laura, if you don’t frak this guy, I will.”

Laura chokes on her food and spends some time coughing, before she can even think of speaking again. “First of all, we’re in this situation because I frakked him,” she points out once she’s recovered. “And second, I am.”

Sandra hums in approval. “Wait until you’re in the horny phase.”

Laura groans in frustration. “What? There’s a horny phase?”

“Josh and I did it in your bathroom last time we were over.” 

Laura doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry or be appalled. A bit of all of those. “Come on, Sandra.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to tell you about the nice symptoms,” Sandra defends, although there’s a definite laugh in her voice. She winces next and Laura sits up in her chair.

“Are you okay?” she asks, feeling an anxious tightening in her stomach.

“Yeah,” Sandra sighs. “They keep kicking my ribs. They both seem to think the accommodation is terrible.”

Laura puts her sandwich down on her desk and lays a hand on her own belly. She looks less like she’s pregnant and more like she’s overdone it with cake, which is fine by now, since her blouse is loose enough to hide it. She can’t imagine what kicks must feel like. She tries to, but anything she comes up with is probably wildly inaccurate. 

“Have you settled on names yet?” Laura asks distractedly, remembering the feel of Bill’s hand on her belly, which feels like an eternity ago when in reality, it’s only been a week. He said he would be there at the next appointment, and she finds herself hoping he would.

“Josh doesn’t want me to say until we’re sure. Apparently, I’m easily influenced,” Sandra complains.

“He’s not wrong. He got you to agree to marry him,” Laura chuckles and Sandra pretends to be offended, but then laughs. 

A knock on the door followed by the words “knock, knock” said out loud as the door opens catches Laura’s attention. She takes her hand away from her stomach at lightning speed - no need to attract her boss’s attention.

“Can I call you back?” she says into the phone before she hangs up and sets her phone on the desk, looking up at the face of the head of the university. He approaches her with an easy smile, and she knows the conversation isn’t gonna be work-related. “Mr Adar, what can I do for you?” she asks.

“How many times have I asked you to call me Richard?” he asks with a disapproving shake of his head.

“I lost count, _Mr Adar_. Maybe you should hire a math professor,” Laura replies with the slightest smirk.

“Some complain about their employees being too friendly, and I, about them not being friendly enough,” Richard sighs dramatically, coming to sit on the edge of Laura’s desk, forcing her to look up at him. “Have dinner with me, Laura.” 

He’s generally not unpleasant, but being another one of his mistresses isn’t what she wants. It wasn’t what she wanted before, and now, with a baby, even less. 

“Isn’t that forbidden by the university code?” she asks, half looking for an excuse. She thought it ought to be, but had no real idea. “That would be highly unprofessional.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” Richard replies, which means that yes, it is. “Relations may be prohibited, but dinner isn’t. Did you have anything else than the dinner I offered in mind?” he asks with a self-satisfied grin, knowing he’s got her. 

“I’m sure your wife would care,” Laura says, returning his smile, and now she’s got him. Everyone knows he sleeps around, and never mentions his wife to anyone, but that doesn’t make the fact that he’s married any less true. If he hadn’t been, they probably would’ve gone on that date last year. And who knows what would’ve happened from there. 

“What if she wasn’t around anymore?” Richard challenges with a playful look.

Laura chuckles in disbelief. “Mr Adar, are you offering to murder your wife to have dinner with me?”

“Is it working?”

“No, it’s not,” Laura says, but a smile plays on her lips, replicated on his.

“Anyway. I came to ask if you could take on the pre-war comparative literature class on Thursdays for a while. Marta is sick, and I need someone to take over,” Richard says, standing up and off Laura’s desk, which she’s grateful for as her neck has started hurting. 

More work when she’s not sure when to eat is not what Laura would call a good idea, but she accepts anyway. 

#

**Week 12**

When Bill finally makes it to the doctor’s office, Laura is standing on a scale, and the relief that he sees in her eyes and that she tries to hide makes his heart ache. She thought he wouldn’t come.

“You haven’t gained much weight since last time, are you eating properly?” the doctor is asking before she sees Bill. “Oh hi, you must be Bill, I’m Dr Mejia, we were just starting. We’ve done a blood test and now keeping track of weight gain.”

Bill glances between Laura and the doctor, wondering what Laura’s told her about him. But something more important tugs at his attention, and he looks at Laura seriously. “Are you eating?” he asks.

Laura gets off the scale and sets her jaw, which Bill’s coming to know as a sign of irritation, a don’t-start-with-me warning. “I eat when I can, and especially what I can keep in.”

Bill opens his mouth before he can help himself. “It’s not food that has to be managed around life, but the other way around.”

“Oh really, Bill, why don’t you try throwing up every day and see how _you_ feel?”

“Nausea can definitely make you want to avoid meal times,” the doctor says, definitely more diplomatically than Bill had. “but it’s really important to try to eat regularly, in smaller portions throughout the day for example. For most women though, morning sickness recedes in the second trimester, so that’s the good news.”

Bill considers for a moment having meals delivered to Laura so that she’d eat, or maybe bribing a colleague to force her to observe lunch times. That seems like a sound idea. He’d have to look into that. 

Bill stays silent while Laura talks about how she’s feeling, and his spirits instantly lift when Laura’s lying down and pulling up her top to reveal her abdomen. He couldn’t see the swelling under the blouse, but it’s there, and even bigger than when he’d seen her last almost two weeks ago. Now, it’s visible, and he wants to feel it under his fingers again, but holds back, especially when it gets slick with some kind of gel. He puts a tentative hand on Laura’s shoulder instead, and she gives him a small smile, trying for a truce. He sighs and gives one back.

"You should enter the second trimester in two weeks, which is generally referred to as the golden point,” the doctor keeps talking while moving some kind of machine over Laura’s belly. Bill wonders if there are any books where he could learn more, hating to just stand there doing nothing and feel like an incompetent. He notices Laura’s looking at him now, and wonders what’s going through her head. “Your body gets used to the increased hormones and there are a lot of things happening at the same time; increased appetite, change in sex drive, generally more energy, but you can still feel lightheaded, so be careful about that. Every time I got up too quickly, I’d drop back down," she laughs, and Bill is almost startled by the sound. The only doctor he regularly meets is Cottle, so this excited chatter is a stark change from the man's grumpy mumbles. 

“That sounds perfect compared to now,” Laura comments. 

"Of course, the experience can be different for every woman. Please don't hesitate to call me with any questions."

When they finally get to see it, the baby’s much bigger than in the first picture Laura gave him, and Bill’s own heart goes crazy at the sound of his baby’s. He looks at Laura with slightly widened and teary eyes, and she reaches out to take his hand. How did they even manage to make this life? 

He listens to the doctor’s words about how the baby looks healthy and advice on things for the following month until the next appointment, but keeps thinking about how they’re producing life - well, Laura is. Laura talks about teaching when asked how stressful her job is, and it’s painfully transparent that she’s not going to back down at all. It’s also obvious that despite his initial online stalking, he doesn’t know her at all.

“Thank you for coming along,” Laura says when they’re eventually outside the door. They’ve only let go of each other’s hand when Laura put her coat back on, but now they’re back, and the contact feels good. It feels right. 

“Thank you for telling me about it,” Bill looks at her and gently tucks away a strand of hair that was flying in her face. “Should I marry you? I don’t know what you want. I can marry you.”

“That’s really romantic. No, thank you,” Laura answers, her green eyes piercing through his. At least, she’s not taking her hand back. “But I wouldn’t mind getting lunch for now.”

“You must really want me to stay if you’re offering to eat,” Bill says, and he’s not quite sure why he said that, but part of him wants Laura to want him around, while another part is still upset she’s barely eating. She’s made clear several times though that she doesn’t need him.

Laura looks down at their joined hands almost shyly and then back at his face. “I do. We don't know that much about each other, and I think it's time we fixed that.” 

“I’m not sure I can stay though. I got permission to leave for the appointment, but I have to go back," Bill says mournfully, all the while hoping for a way to still make it work. He doesn’t really want to see the disappointment on Laura’s face, not when they're just out from seeing their baby and things are good.

A moment passes, and then with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Laura asks, "Will they know how long the appointment took? Those things can get awfully long, especially since we had a lot of questions."

"No, I suppose they probably won't.” Bill quickly catches on, relief blossoming in his chest, and he strokes the back of Laura’s hand, wanting nothing more than to take her into his arms and hold on to her. If not that, then at least he’d make sure she eats lunch today. She does drive him crazy and she rejected his proposal, but inexplicably, he wants to kiss her - and not the hard ones fuelled with burning passion they’ve shared before, although those are undeniably great; no, he wants to do it softly, tenderly and hold her face in his hands. He settles for saying, “Lead the way."


	6. Not a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly me didn't add the not-a-date to chapter 5 where it was supposed to be, (why do I bother making an outline, right?) so here it is as a separate short chapter!

This isn’t a date, yet Laura feels nervous flutters in her stomach as she sits across from Bill in a restaurant that’s too fancy for a simple lunch. 

“So, tell me, what do you do?” she asks the classic introductory question that they skipped during their first meeting. “Apart from meeting women in bars and knocking them up.”

“Excuse me, it’s a full-time job,” Bill replies with a small smile and Laura can’t help but laugh. “I actually have another baby to see after this.”

“Far from me to keep you from your duties,” Laura grins, taking the menu that was handed to her.

Bill looks at her with that slightly unsettling gaze for another moment before he lowers his eyes to consider his own food options. “Do you have work this afternoon?” he asks.

“I always do,” Laura says, glancing up at him, waiting to see if he would fight her on that too. “I teach a new class tomorrow morning too, so there’s preparations to be done.” 

It only took a minute for Bill to close his menu, having seemingly already made his choice. Laura certainly can’t relate, going over the whole list three times. Between things she’s not allowed and those she avoids because they make her want to run away screaming - and those change regularly, otherwise it wouldn’t be fun - the list is largely narrowed down. With the reduced choices, she makes her decision, looking back at Bill who was waiting to ask his question.

“What is this new class about?”

“It’s pre-war comparative literature. We’ll be looking at literature and artistic expressions in the Twelve Colonies and how that defined culture. So the relation between written works, and other disciplines such as history, art or politics.”

Bill nods in understanding. “Sounds interesting.”

“I think so too,” Laura gives him a smile. “You’re welcome to come in and observe, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You know what? I wish I could.” The waiter comes to take their order, and when he leaves, Bill speaks again. “Your dissertation was fascinating, I have no doubt your classes are as well.”

Laura tilts her head, looking at Bill with a slight frown. “You read my dissertation?” she asks while her cheeks take on a flush at the unexpected compliment. If there’s one thing she’s proud of, it’s that frakking graduate degree that consumed several years of her life. 

“I did,” Bill confirms, and the slight embarrassed expression on his face makes Laura push for answers.

“How did you find it?”

It is freely published online, but one has to go pretty deep into the university website to find it, something which Laura didn’t think Bill would do. It’s almost a hundred thousand words, too, and even her own family didn’t make it to the end. Cheryl almost finished, taking Laura telling her she would probably not be interested as a personal challenge.

“I looked you up. It was easy to find,” Bill replies and quickly continues speaking so she can’t keep teasing him. She probably would’ve done the same online search if she remembered his name. “I think your take that mystery novels offer a window into the world and can pave the way for classical literature was well-argued. I actually have read very little of Prima’s work.”

“I’m glad you think so, And I can lend you some. I have the whole collection at home. It’s probably going to be the heaviest thing to move,” Laura chuckles and her heart warms when Bill joins her. “You should start with  _ Dark Day. _ It’s a classic.”

“Thank you,” Bill leans back in his chair when their plates are put in front of them. He’s gone for some kind of meat that’s almost raw, which is too bad, because it looks delicious and Laura would have stolen a bite if it was cooked enough. She has her own plate, which looks just as good, so she’ll settle for that. Sharing food has something intimate that she’s always liked, though, as evidenced by the last time they shared strawberries and ended up in a decidedly intimate position. “You mentioned moving, do you know when it’s going to be?”

“I know when I have to get out of my place, but I haven’t found a good enough house to move into yet.” There’s a good chance she’s being too picky about it, but she’s not going to say that. This is the house her child is going to grow up in, so picky is good. Picky is the only option. “I need days to have about two extra hours in them, do you think that could be arranged? Twenty-four isn’t enough.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure that’d change anything; you’d spend them working.”

“And you wouldn’t?” Laura challenges, knowing how a lot of fleeters’ lives revolve solely around work. 

“I’m not pregnant,” Bill replies in the same tone, and, just like that, they’ve gone full circle and back to the same argument again. Laura sighs. It’s exhausting. 

Even as she knows that’s what it only is, Laura feels a pang of pain at being reminded that Bill is there just because she’s pregnant. It’s a weird train of thought, one she didn’t expect to be entertaining, and she shakes her head, focusing on eating in silence for a moment. She wants to be petty and show Bill how he was wrong and she does eat, but she’s not four years old, so she doesn’t. 

The silence stands just on the side of tense, not like a normal break in conversation, and after a while, Laura lets out another sigh. “You didn’t reply to my question earlier about what you do,” she says.

“I did,” Bill answers, taking a sip of his water. She raises her eyebrows to prompt him to keep speaking, slowly coming to the realisation that she always has to ask him to expand on his to-the-point sentences. Maybe this is the way he is, not giving elaborate answers. That also means fewer ways to disguise the truth, and a tendency for directness, which Laura’s always liked, unlike those pointless political debates on tv. “I fly vipers,” he continued. “ but I’m going to take on more other assignments if it means I get to be on the planet more often.”

“Bill, you don’t have to do anything for me,” Laura argues.

“What if it’s selfish and I do it for me?”

Laura shakes her head but drops the subject. She’s walking a fine line between making sure he doesn’t feel obligated, and pushing him away. It’s like being locked in a constant battle of wants: wanting to see more of him, not wanting to be fussed over, and at the same time, regardless of the other needs, wanting to allow him in the baby’s life.

“The university’s giving a party in two weeks. I told them I’d be accompanied, because- uh, long story, would you like to accompany me? If you’re available, of course.”

Bill nods even before she’s done speaking. “I would love to. Let me just check if I’m free and I’ll let you know.”

Laura suddenly thinks about how it’s gonna look, her coming to a work party with Bill on her arm, like a couple. That won’t do; they’re not a couple. They’re two people having a baby together who can’t stop jumping each other, which is admittedly an unusual label. It’s too late now that she’s already asked anyway. 

"We can do this, can't we?" she asks, her eyes finding Bill’s again. Not getting lost in them seemed to become harder the longer she was with him. 

“The party? I can behave in front of your colleagues.”

“Bill.”

“Yes, we can do this.” Bill’s soft smile fills every bit of Laura’s body with a pleasant warmth until she’s smiling back. He doesn’t seem so irritating when he’s looking at her like that, which is a dangerous thought in itself. “I need to pick up some books before I go back, so I should get going.”

Laura nods in response, then adds, with a secret smile, “That appointment lasted a really long time, didn’t it?”

“Like you said, we had a lot of questions.”

When they walk out of the restaurant, their hands instantly reach for each other, and they don’t comment on it. 


	7. The party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter keeps bugging me, so I decided to just... post it. Seems like a sound strategy

**Week 14**

With a sigh, Laura gives up on trying to button her trousers. Any more and she’d hurt herself. Most of the clothes she usually wears for work don’t fit around her growing belly anymore, which is annoying, but to be expected. She's gonna have to buy new clothes, and let the world know that she's expecting. It's nerve-wracking, every new development making the whole thing more and more real. She has no idea how she’s going to fare as a mother, and only twenty-six more weeks to figure it out.

She grabs her phone, and her finger hovers over Bill's number, but he must be busy in space, so she puts it back down. Just because he's away doesn't mean they can never talk - he's called a few times since he’s gone back, and it’s been really nice to have actual conversations. She’s not sure what he would have to say, but she wouldn’t mind his advice on the new clothes she’s about to purchase. At the very least, she needs to find a dress for the university party that's large enough to hide the bump, and that's a whole issue, because she’s become visibly pregnant. People used to be able to believe she had a big lunch, but not anymore.

At least, she’s not so nauseous anymore. She hasn't actually thrown up in a few days, which is such a relief it even made her cry last night.

Laura goes through several stores, trying on those clothes supposedly designed for pregnant women, but every single thing she slips on accentuates the bump she’s not ready to share with the world. Doing this alone is slightly depressing, too, but neither of her sisters was available, and Bill, well, she decided not to call him, so that’s on her. Cheryl has been brought up to speed now, after her honeymoon, but deeply disapproves of Laura’s relationship with Bill, since she works with his ex. She can’t stop saying that Bill’s ex is heartbroken, but Laura remarked that she didn’t have to tell that woman about the baby. But asking Cheryl to keep a secret is like trying to keep water in a strainer.

So she goes from store to store, considers what feels like a thousand outfits, with the lowest point being when a sales assistant convinces her to try a dress with animal print and she looks like an overweight cheetah. 

And now… now, the real estate agent who was curt and borderline rude over the phone is much nicer to her once he sees she’s pregnant, and it makes her want to either slap him or cry again, or slap him while crying, which is really the best of the three options.

Getting home that night with a few bags but still no house, Laura finally calls Bill. He's thankfully free to talk, and the sound of his voice makes her feel better. She wonders if the baby likes Bill’s voice as much as she does, but remembers it’s not aware of sounds yet. Still, it’s a nice thought, and she rubs affectionately over her belly as they talk.

#

The teasing Bill gets from the other officers for reading pregnancy books in the crew's quarters is infinite and endlessly creative, ranging from enquiries about the whereabouts of his testicles to requests for information on when he's gonna break down crying, but he pays it no mind; most of the time anyway. He needs to know what's going to happen to Laura and when, and what the frak  _ he _ 's supposed to be doing. 

Reading those books he picked up is the closest he can get to Laura while he’s in space - that, and hearing her voice on the phone when he can get away with it - so he spends most of his free time with his nose buried in them. 

He learns so much, on symptoms, on state of mind, on support, on physical signs to watch out for, on labour, which is one thing that terrified him even before he read about it. The third trimester sounds rough as well, and he wonders whether Laura would enjoy a holiday before the worst of it hits. Her university has a week-long break in a few weeks, and Bill makes a note to check what he’d be able to do.

At least, he got to see Laura at the party she invited him to. It feels like a test after the step forward their relationship has taken, and he definitely cannot screw it up. She’s the mother of his child, but she’s become more than that, and trying to figure out his feelings makes everything even more confusing.

When he’s eventually on Laura’s doorstep two days later and she stands before him, his brain short-circuits, eliminating any thought that was making its way around his mind at the time of the incident.

"...Hello?" he manages to say with an hesitance that's not usually his way, but Laura answered the door in just a bra and panties, and he has many questions. 

"I was trying out some clothes to wear tonight," she explains, and far from him to complain. She looks incredible with so much creamy skin on display, the inviting curves, the confident way with which she stands before him, and desire rushes through his blood almost instantly. 

She presses her body to his as they kiss and his tongue takes her mouth, and as her hand comes to squeeze his ass, what she wants is unmistakable. This, right here, also doesn’t help with untangling the mess of their feelings, but suddenly, it’s not so important anymore. 

“Were you actually trying out clothes or did you just intend to seduce the first man that comes through your door?”

Laura gives him a knowing look. “Why not both? You’re the first man, and you’re already seduced. Do you need any help with that?" She asks teasingly, gripping the growing bulge through his trousers and Bill hisses. She didn't wait for his reply and got down to undo his belt and open his fly.

"Laura, it feels wrong that you're on your knees," Bill protests, already a bit breathless. 

"I'm pregnant, Bill, not injured," Laura replies with a sharp look, pressing her face against his still-clothed groin. "Or do you want me to stop?" She looks back up at his face, freeing his erection and engulfing it into the heat of her mouth. She knows he'll lose coherent thinking, and it's exactly what happens. His head falls back against the wall and he gives a strangled moan at the way her lips works around him. 

"You didn't reply to my question. Do you want me to stop?" she asks once more, pulling back just enough to speak, her playfully innocent eyes meeting his again and he doesn’t have the superhuman strength needed to push her away.

"Frak no, don't- don't stop," he growls, needing to feel her around him again. When he puts a hand on her head to emphasise his words, he hears her giggle and he has to bite his lip against the onslaught of emotions that sound brings. He wants to make her giggle, and laugh, and smile so hard her cheeks hurt, and- 

Bill's train of thoughts is cut off once again by the work of Laura's tongue on him, and he breathes out a moan. Laura is taking him apart bit by bit, with every swirl of her tongue, every suck of her lips, every stroke of her hand, and there's nothing else he can, or wants to, think of. His hand is still on her head, and he doesn't move it or apply pressure, just relishes the simple fact that she lets him take such a dominant stand; the fact that he could, if he wanted to, tighten his fist into her hair and move into her mouth at his own pace. As it were, his brain is too overloaded with sensations to send signals to his limbs to do anything else than the basics of keeping upright. Heat rises from every part of him, rushing to a single point, and he gasps, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Laura is observant and experimenting, and every time he makes a sound, she repeats the same move again, and how the frak did he get so lucky that she'd want to do this to him, with him. 

"Laura," he growls after a particularly hard suck makes his entire body shudder and sends sparks through his vision. "I don't- please just-" 

Laura pauses, stroking his trembling thigh and she draws back before he can find more words to speak. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice roughened with desire but tinged with concern.

Bill manages to take a deep breath and tugs on Laura's shoulders so she'd get back up. She complies and he brings a hand to cup her cheek once they're at eye level again. "I want to try something with you," he finally gets to say, even though his brain is leaving again as Laura decides to bite along his neck as she waits for his answer.

He takes a hold of Laura's shoulders again, and turns them around, but before she can lean back against the wall, he puts his hand on the clasp of her bra. "May I?" he asks, and at her nod, slips it off her and throws it somewhere behind him. 

"Just be careful," Laura says, her back resting against the wall now.

He hasn't been able to touch her breasts at all since they found each other again as they were too sensitive and even on the side of painful. But now, she told him they’re getting better, which coincides with what he's read on typical symptoms. He touches one breast and then the other, noticing the heaviness that's coming to them, and when Laura doesn't wince like she did when he accidentally touched her a month ago, brings his mouth to the right one and places kisses on it, then gently runs the flat of his tongue over her nipple, ready to withdraw if it's still too sensitive for her. 

"Bill, that feels good…" she murmurs, and he smiles against her skin.It feels different than it did before she was pregnant, but she can’t put her finger on it. The way he runs his tongue around each nipple is as soothing as it is arousing. And he's enjoying it, too, which baffles Laura slightly. He's the first man she’s met who takes as much joy giving her pleasure as he does taking it for himself, and it only adds to the liquid fire in her veins. When he sucks the peak into his mouth, her legs almost give out, and she holds onto his shoulders for support. 

They have to get somewhere else, Bill wants to try many things and make her cry out. "Let's find somewhere more comfortable.”

"We don't actually have time," Laura says, remembering why she was even trying on clothes in the first place. Funny how things come back to her memory when she’s not otherwise busy.

"We'll take the time," Bill decides, taking Laura's hand and leading her to her bedroom. "You're afraid to be late for class, Dr Roslin?" 

"It's not class," Laura huffs as she gives in and lies down on the bed. She’s not going to fight him on something that was her idea in the first place. "It's a professional party at the university." 

Bill replies with a sound that doesn't make any sense, but his mouth finds Laura's body again, and they don't care what it was. 

They are indeed late for class by the time they make it out of bed, but Laura's not grumpy about it anymore. She even takes the time to try on several dresses. The first two are loose and ample, and, as she pulls it on, so is the third one. Bill realises she's trying to hide her roundness, which is very near impossible now, and he frowns a little. 

"Have you not told anyone?" he asks.  _ Is she ashamed of having my baby? _

“I’ve told my family. That’s all for now.” Laura takes off the third dress with frustrated speed. “I’m not sure how I can tell work.”

“How about,” Bill starts, coming up behind Laura and wrapping his arms around her so that he can use both hands to caress her bump - he might be slightly obsessed with it. She leans back against his chest, and he places a kiss on the side of her neck. “you wear that dress you told me about last time we talked on the phone, and you simply show them? They can figure out the rest.”

Laura considers the idea for a moment, and the thought of seeing her boss’s shocked face is enough to make her agree. She picks up the black dress she bought and pulls it over her head, and Bill regretfully takes his hands away to help her slide it down. With the combination of the black dress hugging her body, the red of her voluminous hair, and the swelling that means she’s harbouring life inside her, life they had made together, she looks magnificent, and Bill feels a rush of pride at having her in his arms.

He’s not looking forward to the handshakes and the people and the small talk, but being able to proudly stand by Laura’s side is going to be a highlight of the night. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, and the smile that appears on her face is so open and pure he wants to keep it close to his heart and never let go.

#

The party is already in full swing when they arrive, being a whooping forty-five minutes late. Laura looks at the crowd gathered in one of the university’s biggest rooms, then back at Bill. He holds out his hand, and she takes it. 

He’s still wearing his fleet uniform, for some reason she’s not sure to comprehend, but she's actually coming to like it; the way it frames his chest, highlights the square of his shoulders, how it feels when she touches it. Most of all, though, she likes taking it off. With the way he's looking at her, she briefly wonders if he can hear her thoughts.

They’re not even there for one minute that a hand shoots up in front of Laura, offering her a flute of champagne. She turns her head to see the smiling face of Richard Adar and looks at the offered glass but doesn’t take it.

“Mr Adar, how nice to see you,” she says politely and fully turns to her boss. The shock she’d imagined on his face at the sight of her is nothing compared to the real thing, and it’s almost comical. His jaw practically hits the floor, and he takes a big gulp from the glass he was offering her a second earlier. Bill was right, this is much better than hiding it and telling him. 

“Laura, you’re…” he blinks, speechless in a way that Laura didn’t think possible of him. That would have been useful at other times.

“Radiant?” Bill supplies and Laura bites her lip, holding back a laugh. “Yes, she is.”

Richard’s gaze moves to Bill next and they stare at each other, prompting Laura to roll her eyes, and then realise she has introductions to make. “Richard is the head of the university,” she says, glancing at the hand that’s still joined with Bill’s. “Bill’s my… um… friend?” she cringes even while saying it. What the frak does that mean? He’s more than that, but she can’t even explain to herself the way he makes her feel, let alone other people. If Bill thinks anything of it, she can’t tell.

The two men shake hands before Richard finds his tongue again. “I’d love to know the story behind this. Laura, you definitely make life interesting,” he chuckles, placing his hand on Laura’s arm. She’s not sharing, so he asks again. “How did this happen?”

Laura glances at Bill, knowing he’d be holding back a comment about how babies are made, and frankly, so is she. 

“What’s important is that it’s happening,” Laura simply replies, unsure of what else to say. “If you don’t mind, I still need to make the rounds and say hello.”

Richard nods, and Laura leads Bill away so they can get their own drinks, which ends up being water. She tries to make Bill realise he doesn’t have to drink the same thing as her, but he doesn’t listen.

“He wants to frak you,” Bill says, unhappiness deep in his voice, and Laura snorts.

“Yes, I know.”

Bill seems displeased by her answer, but soon, Laura’s engaged in animated conversations with her colleagues and some university sponsors and only half of those discussions revolve around work. She finds she doesn’t mind that much, except when she has to fend off constant requests - if they even ask and don’t straight up go for it - to touch her. She’s not sure how people suddenly think touching her body is acceptable just because she’s temporarily sharing it with her child, but some well-placed glares work wonders on that.

She’s quickly tired though, and Bill seems uncomfortable, even if he tries to hide it, so she pulls them to the side of the room, taking another glass of water with her on the way. Bill’s shoulders relax a little once they’re out of the main crowd - he looks a bit like a fish out of water in the middle of all those people there to network, and she feels bad for dragging him out of his Battlestar for this.

“You don’t look comfortable,” she remarks gently.

“I’m here for you,” his hand caresses Laura’s arm, and she smiles gratefully. “If not with you, I’d be in a bar drinking with a friend… but not the same kind of a friend as you and I, of course.”

Laura groans in a surge of embarrassment. Friends. She did say that. “How would you describe us?”

Bill obviously didn’t expect the question, and Laura feels a sense of triumph at that. She shouldn’t be the only one suffering trying to explain the nature of their relationship. At last, Bill shrugs and once again, Laura can’t figure out the expression on his face. “Friends works,” he answers.

“Do you want to dance?” Laura suggests, forgetting about being tired and putting both their glasses on the nearby table. It’s now late enough in the night that serious conversations have dissolved into silly laughter, and music has started, making it the perfect time for a dance.

“The last time we danced together, you told me you were pregnant.”

“Surprise, I still am.”

“And the cycle continues.”

Laura playfully hits his arm and Bill grins at her.


	8. The rose

**Week 16**

"Laura… what if-" Bill didn't get to finish his sentence as Laura brings one hand to the back of his neck to lower his mouth, and one to his ass to bring him deeper inside her. Despite the worry, he groans, hungry for more of her.

Still, the thought remains, slowly taking a hold of his brain, and that’s when it starts going down. 

"Laura, wait… what if I hit the baby?" he asks. Stopping his thrusts into Laura's warmth once they've started usually takes the strength of the Gods, but not today. Today, a malicious thought slipped in his mind and won't let go. 

Laura pants, bringing both hands to his ass now to pull him to her again. "You won't, I promise, just… come on. That was good." 

She's a vision: flushed cheeks, hair spread around her like a halo, lips reddened by how much he's kissed them, a trail of marks he sucked all over her skin, and his tags nestled between her breasts that she took after being hit in the face again. For yet another moment, Bill forgets about that thought and buries himself inside her again, making them both gasp. 

Laura hums in approval and pleasure, and her hands move up his back, dragging her nails on his skin and making him shudder. He captures Laura's lips again, and they lose themselves in it. 

They've had so much sex lately it's almost too much. Laura keeps describing this as a horny phase, and Bill said he'd be there for her, so he is. He can think of _ a lot  _ of worse things she could want, so he's more than happy to oblige. Sometimes, though, she can't bear the thought of being touched, and he obliges then, too, trying to find a pattern in what makes her react, but coming up empty. Today isn't one of those days. Today is a day where he wanted her, and she wanted him, and it was simple... until now. 

The moment passes, and the thought is back. Frak, what if the first impression the baby has of him is being hit with his penis? Yes, the books say that can't happen, but what if it does anyway? Bill groans and tries to ignore it, because he wants to keep giving Laura pleasure instead of fighting with her, but the idea of hitting his baby in the face is such a turn off that he finds himself stopping again. 

Laura opens her eyes and tries to roll them over to take what she wants like she did that first night, but he doesn't let her. She huffs out an irritated breath. "Come on." 

"What if the first thing our baby knows of me is how I hit it in the face?" Bill says, his heart clenching as he imagined the scene. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Bill. If you were big enough to reach into my frakking uterus, we'd know it by now."

Bill shakes his head. There's no mistaking that Laura's mad at him now, and this time they can't work it out with more sex. "I'll ask the doctor, maybe she has advice," he says tentatively. "I just don't-"

Laura runs a hand over her face and loses it. "Want to hit the baby in the face, yes I got that. First of all, thank you for that image. Second, get off me then."

Bill does, lying by Laura's side instead. He reaches out to touch her stomach in a gesture he wants soothing, but she turns on her side away from him. The message couldn't be clearer.

He clenches his jaw, hesitates to leave Laura alone, but she hasn't told him she wants him to go, so he stays, staring at the ceiling for what feels like hours before sleep eventually takes over. 

# 

In the morning, Laura wakes up and is assaulted with the memories and frustration she's slept on. She's still very much wound up, and the fact that they didn't find release is an aggravating factor for her mood.

Soft snores next to her indicate Bill is still there, and she turns around, looking at him in surprise. She didn't think he'd stay after the fight, but he's still here. Why did he even think about hitting the baby? Why now? And if it happens now already, they’re going to have a really fun time with the remaining months.

Sleep gives Bill this peaceful quality that Laura hasn’t seen replicated in his conscious time. His chest rises and falls evenly and she takes in the strands of dark hair, the arc of his cheekbones, the closed eyelids that hide blue gems, the slightly parted lips, and she wants to wake him up, wants to talk about what happened, find a way to solve the issue. It’s a silly one, too, and she knows that.

It will have to wait. She has a house viewing to go to, which might actually be the one - and it better be, since she has to leave her current place in three weeks. Maybe there is such a thing as too picky after all. Moving off the bed as quietly as possible, Laura gets dressed and leaves. Bill has spent so much time at her place recently that she has no doubt he’ll find his way around on his own.

And thank the Gods, this house is the one. It's almost perfect, three rooms, close to one of the best schools of Caprica, reasonable distance to the university, with neighbours she exchanged a few words with and seem lovely. The garden is smaller than the pictures showed, but if it's big enough to have some children's toys and a lounging chair, then it's perfect, and it will be her house. Slightly over-budget, but nothing that what the university pays her and her savings can't handle. 

"It's a strange thing to be moving now," the real estate agent says as she looks for the paperwork. It's a way to make small talk, but Laura humours her.

"Why is that?" Laura asks back. 

"With all the stuff to prepare for the baby, I couldn't have bought a house and moved at the same time," the agent continues. "When are you expecting the little one?" 

"April," Laura replies. "And you do what you can with the situation that you have." Just because she didn't choose the time to have a baby doesn't mean she’s going to half-ass motherhood. She doesn’t half-ass anything.

“Yes, you do. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Laura gives the other woman a tight smile. “Did you bring the papers?” she asks as the agent keeps searching among her pile. “I don’t mind coming back to the agency later if you didn’t.” 

“I’m pretty sure I have them. I always take a copy on viewings,” the agent explains, now going through the contents of her bag. There’s a knock on the front door of the house, and Laura turns around. 

“Are you expecting another person?” she asks. It was too good to be true that she’d be the only person interested in this house. Things move fast, which is why she wanted to sign that pre-sale document now and take it off the market. She’s willing to fight for it anyway.

“Not for another hour or so. Could I possibly ask you…”

Bewildered, Laura walked back to the front of the house, wondering what she would say to whoever is outside that door. If it’s someone wanting to look at the house, she’d tell them it’s off the market. The agent didn’t say she wasn’t allowed to share the news, after all.

It’s not a prospective buyer, unless Bill intends to relocate. He stands at the door and looks at her, his back as straight as an arrow. 

"Laura." His expression is guarded, and she can't blame him, because so is hers. 

“How did you know I was here?” Laura asks, and it’s not at all the first thing she wants to say to him after last night, but it’s too late now.

“You keep a calendar in your kitchen,” Bill says. “I’m not here to fight with you.” Although his words are commendable, his tone, the one of someone approaching a wounded animal who might run away irks Laura. 

“Aren’t I lucky? That’s a first,” she crosses her arms as he looks around the empty room.

“This house looks nice,” Bill comments next, and the change of subject feels forced.

“Soon, it will be mine,” Laura says, the desire to show Bill and see what he thinks tugging at her heart. “Look, Bill, about last night… we can ask the doctor next time if that reassures you. You’re probably not the first man to think that.”

Bill takes a step forward, bringing his eyes back to her. The simple fact of her choosing to stop the argument makes his shoulders noticeably relax. Laura can’t help but wonder how, out of all the men on the Colonies, she picked the one that’s as hardheaded as she is. Because she picked, even though she was drunk, even though all of it was an accident, even though she didn't know anything about him at first except for the fact that they disagreed and he gave too articulate answers when she didn't want him to. Deep down, she picked.

"I don't want to hurt you or the baby,” Bill insists, and she nods, because of course, he doesn’t. If there's one thing that's transpired through his overbearing, it's that. “Do you think we should stop?"

"No," she says, a little too quickly. Great, super smooth. 

A smile slowly creeps up Bill’s face, breaking through the hard lines. “Maybe we can try it differently then.”

“You know I’m all for experimentation,” she says, walking to Bill until she’s pressed up against him, and he places his hands on her hips. She was frustrated last night, and maybe Bill not accepting that he won’t hurt the baby isn’t so grave after all. At least, he cares about it, which is all she can ask for.

“Do I know that? Maybe you should show me what you mean.”

“I would, but I’m signing this, and then baby-sitting Romain this afternoon.”

“Who’s this?” Bill asks. 

“My nephew. Sandra’s son. He’s sweet, but sneaky, so that requires energy.”

Bill hesitates, then asks, “Would you like company?”

"I would," Laura smiles softly. She didn’t expect that, but perhaps that would give them both practice. Not that they'll be doing any parenting together once the baby comes. She doesn't like to hold on to illusions, so she doesn't think about what will happen in twenty-four weeks when his child is out of her. 

She quickly shows him the house before they have to go, keeping the fact that he won't live there with her out of her thoughts.

#

The boy is decidedly a handful. But then again, he’s the first child Bill has ever tried to take care of, and maybe they’re all like that. He runs everywhere, touches everything, and utters a number of sounds per minute - only some of them being words - that honestly should not be allowed, especially since they barely make any sense. 

Bill learns they’re actually only keeping the boy for two hours while his parents have an appointment, and he remembers that this is the sister who was already pregnant at the wedding. He wonders if being pregnant at the same time as her sister brings Laura some comfort, and hopes it does. 

It's soon apparent that Laura is a lot more experienced than he is, and it's such a reassuring feeling, knowing their baby will be well taken care of. He watches closely as Laura speaks to the flaxen-haired toddler in a soft voice, the smile she gives the child making Bill want to believe in all the good things in the world. But then Laura looks up, smiles at Bill himself, and it's even better. 

"Playdough, Bill. Get on board," she orders, separating the green dough in her hands into several pieces. 

"Yes, sir," and he sits on the other side of Laura's nephew, taking a ball into his hand. “What are we making?”

"We're gonna smash it with our fists," Laura shows the child who keeps giggling as he hits the dough with abandon. "And poke it with our fingers. And roll it between her palms," she demonstrates. She's so sweet that even Bill finds himself following instructions. "Good job, honey," she kisses the toddler's temple when he ends up with a sort-of cylinder that he rolled between his chubby hands, and then starts poking it with his fingers again.

Then Laura is working on something with her own dough, and Bill tries to make a viper. He can show some precision skills at times, but today isn’t one of those times, apparently. He still gets some relative success from the exercise, with his piece roughly looking like a flying machine, but his efforts are wasted when Romain takes it and smashes his fist into it. Laura giggles at Bill's distraught face, and then so does the toddler, with Bill joining after a moment. It's all worth it.

"I'll get you another ship, Bill," Laura teases. *Don't cry."

"What if I throw a tantrum?" Bill asks, trying to be serious but a smile tugs at his lips anyway.

"Naughty boys don't get gifts, and I was planning on giving you this," Laura grins at him, and it seems to hide something else, like she's unsure how he's gonna take it. He looks down at her outstretched hand, and sees she's put a flower together with her piece. She's made a rose; it's a frakking playdough rose, and Bill's not sure what he's done to deserve this. And yes, it's green and not red, but it's beautiful, and it’s his now. 

"How did you make this?" Bill asks in astonishment, taking the rose before Romain can snatch it and destroy it like he did his viper. 

"You divide it into several pieces, then flatten them, and bring them together one around the other like petals," Laura explains.

Bill nods, but even knowing how she made it, he couldn't replicate. He doesn't have to, he has hers. "Thank you. I'll take good care of it." 

"You better. It's one of my best." Laura focuses on her hands peeling playdough off the table for a moment before she speaks again. "Really, you don't have to keep it," she shrugs.

"You can't take this away from me, Laura. It's a gift," Bill frowns at her, putting his hands around the rose protectively. "She's trying to steal my flower," he tells Romain who has his wide eyes on him. 

The toddler gasps, and even if Bill's not sure he understands everything they say, he appreciates the gesture. Laura's soft gaze is on them both, but Bill doesn't look up, because he's a coward and can't deal with the emotions Laura's eyes bring. 

He stands and cleans up the table, putting away the pieces of playdough that can be reused, and throwing away the rest. Laura washes her hands thoughtfully, then sighs and holds herself against the counter. 

"Are you all right?" Bill asks, worry making his stomach tight. 

"I'm tired, that's all," Laura answers.

"Let me take care of this," he points to Romain and Laura seems unsure but then she nods, and leaves to sit on the couch. 

Making a toddler wash his hands is harder than landing a viper on water, and Romain keeps splashing around, making them both wet. Bill eventually manages to get a hold of his hands and rub every last bit of playdough out of his small fingers. 

When they're both clean again and somewhat dry, Bill joins Laura on the couch, securing Romain onto his lap. 

"Thank you," Laura tells him, and he nods in response. "It looks like he gave you some trouble." 

Bill shrugs. "It's good practice." 

Romain wriggles his way out of Bill's grasp to put his hands on Laura's stomach. "Mama too," he says. 

Laura smiles tenderly at him. "Yes, honey, I'm like your mama. You're gonna have brothers. And a cousin. How exciting is that?" 

But the boy is already trying to climb down from the couch, and Bill gets up to be ready in case he falls.

“How much energy does he have exactly?” Bill wonders, making Laura chuckle.

“A lot more than I do.”

Romain grabs one of his toys, a heavy liner ship, and runs around with it, flapping his arms in the air. Bill watches him make two laps of the living room before he grabs the boy and holds him up, making Laura gasp. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him fall,” he promises, securing the toddler in his arms and making him fly like he just did with his toy. Romain laughs so hard it shakes his entire body as Bill spins him around, and he makes sounds he thinks are those of a spaceship flying. “What do you see from up there?” Bill asks him. “Trees? You may not be high enough. Do you see space yet? That’s where ships like you go.” He walks around the living room once, telling stories of ships and space before he thinks he shouldn’t do that for too long in case the boy gets sick, so he stops in front of Laura again. “Requesting permission to land and join you on the ground.”

Laura didn’t stop smiling as she watched them, and when he asks, she nods with all the solemnity she can gather. “Permission granted, Captain Adama. Please come back to me. I miss my spaceships.”

Bill gently lowers Romain on the floor again, and the boy resumes playing with the toy in his hands. Bill feels Laura’s gaze on him again, and he turns his head, placing his hand on top of hers above her belly button.

“I wonder what we’re having,” he thinks aloud, and Laura brings her other hand down to stroke his.

“Me too.” 

“Four weeks to go, right?” he asks, the information he read still fresh on his mind. 

Laura nods, her eyes on their hands. “Yes, we already have that appointment scheduled. Then we’ll know.”

The doorbell prevents Bill from replying, and Laura makes to stand up, but he pushes her shoulder back. “I can get it,” he says.

“It must be Sandra.” 

Sure enough, when Bill opens the door, he finds the woman who sat next to Laura at the wedding, with a man that’s taller than all of them trailing behind her.

“Oh hi,” Sandra says. “Hold on a second. I need to use the bathroom.”

And then she’s gone, and the man holds out a hand that Bill shakes. “I’m Josh,” he says. “You must be Bill. Sandra keeps mentioning you every time she talks to Laura.”

Bill nods. “Nice to meet you. Do I want to know what’s being said about me?”

Josh laughs and bends down to gather his son screaming ‘dada’ in his arms. “Hey champion, did you have fun?” 

They make their way back in the living room and Laura gets up. “Hi Josh, how is everything?” she asks.

“It went fine. The babies are all right. I’m sure Sandra has a lot to say about it.”

Laura chuckles, and Bill tilts his head with a small frown, feeling like there’s a joke he’s not in on. He quickly understands, though, when Laura’s sister comes back and launches into a ten-minute summary of what they’ve been doing, and pretty much retelling every single sentence that was said during the appointment.

“Anyway, Leila says I have nine weeks left,” Sandra drops on the couch next to Laura, and it’s hard not to compare. Laura doesn’t even look pregnant next to her. It’s completely frakking rude but Bill can’t stop staring at the sheer  _ size _ . And she says there’s still nine weeks to go. She catches his eyes on her and laughs. “Oh hi, Bill. Don’t worry, Laura’s only got one in there, it won’t become like this. When we first met, I probably looked like her now, actually.”

Bill nods, but he can barely remember her at the bar. He’d been very distracted looking at Laura and that revealing top of hers.

“When was that?” Josh asks, sitting down with his son on his lap, finally tired out and yawning. 

“Oh, sweetie, what a story. Remember that night Laura and I went out a few months back when I got that promotion? We were in a bar and I came back early. Bill was actually there too, and he and Laura…” Sandra not at all discreetly points to Laura’s midsection with a wink.

Laura rolls her eyes. “Thanks, Sandra. We all get what you mean.” 

Bill can’t even feel embarrassed. He has no regrets about how that night turned out, but he doesn’t push his luck and smirk, because that would definitely get him hit over the head.

“Anyway, Laura’s been hiding you. I want to know everything.”

Bill glances at Laura before he replies. “Has she? In her defence, I’m away a lot. I’m leaving again tomorrow morning.”

“For how long?”

“Generally two weeks at a time. Sometimes longer.”

Sandra keeps asking questions, and Bill feels like he’s being interrogated, but he humours her. Laura’s thumb is running over his knuckles, and if it’s important to her, then it’s important to him, too. “Will you be spending Saturnalia with us, Bill?” “How did you manage to read that whole dissertation? I couldn’t.” “What do you do out there in space?”

“My uncle’s in the Colonial Fleet too,” Josh says when Bill explains what he’s up to on the ship. “Commands a Battlestar and everything. We pretty much never see him. Sometimes he makes it down for Saturnalia, though.”

Bill perks up at that. He’s met three of the Battlestar commanders so far, and can’t help but be curious which one he’s very distantly related to now. “Which Battlestar?”

“I can never remember,” Josh says with a shake of his head. “But I’ll ask him next time.” Then he gestures at the boy in his arms with his chin. “This one needs a nap, otherwise he’s gonna get cranky, and no one wants to see that.”

It still takes them half an hour to be out the door, then Bill gets to spend the evening with Laura and make up for the previous night like he wanted to.

When he’s back on  _ Galactica  _ the next day, he places the rose he's jealously protected during transport in his locker, and thinks of Laura every time he opens it. 


	9. Preparation

**Week 18**

“What’s that thing? I can throw it out, do all of us a favour.”

Bill grips the locker door, glaring behind him at the other pilot who spoke. “It’s called if you touch it, that’s the last thing you’ll ever touch,” he warns. 

The man laughs, but Bill’s expression doesn’t indicate he finds this funny, and the laughter is cut short. “Just looks like something my kid threw up last week.”

“That’s my-” Bill abruptly shut his mouth. Why is his brain making him say _wife_? Laura doesn’t want to marry him. “Mind your own business.”

“Don’t try to talk about that woman to him, he’ll break your jaw,” Saul mumbles, yanking open the door to his own locker.

Damn right, he will.

“It’s a frakking green rose, get over it,” he growls and bangs the door shut.

Striding out of the room, he makes a left turn down the corridor to one of the communications rooms he knows to be empty. He’s pretty sure using the phone for this purpose isn’t allowed, but he’s managed to get away with it so far. Not seeing Laura is hard enough, but if he can’t even talk to her, he’ll go stir crazy. She’s been packing in preparation for the move, and not being able to help and make sure she doesn’t overdo it has had him on edge. 

Laura picks up on the second ring, and her “hello?” is enough to melt his frustration away.

“How are you doing?” he asks.

“Bill,” she says, and he hears the smile in her voice. “I’m doing fine. About to go to bed, but I’m reading some material for tomorrow’s class.”

“I didn’t realise it was this late.”

“It’s fine, I’m happy to talk to you. What are you up to?”

He finds a random chair and sits down, keeping an eye on the hatch. “I’m off duty for the night. Wondering how packing is going.”

Laura sighs. “It’s a pain. I have to finish putting my life into boxes before next week.”

“I wish I could be there to help you now.”

“Don’t worry. Cheryl is coming to help tomorrow. I bribed her with cake.”

Bill chuckles. “Seems like a good strategy. I’ll be down next weekend, too.”

“I look forward to it, but you know I got movers.”

“I know,” Bill says, just on the side of grumpy, as if it’s an insult to his abilities. Laura doesn’t respond, so he waits. “You still there?” he asks gently into the phone after a moment has passed and Laura’s quiet. She hums in response, but doesn’t say anything else, distracted by the class material. He waits another minute, then says what he wanted to. His heart rate picks up as he goes over his offer and all the arguments he’s prepared to sway Laura to his side. He won’t admit to being nervous, though. “Go away with me, Laura.”

Laura takes in a surprised breath, and her answer comes quickly, this time. “Excuse me?” 

“Next month. I can get away for a week, and your students are on break.” He doesn’t have a lot of time to convince her, he knows she’ll make a swift decision and then stand by it no matter what. She’s frustrating like that, sometimes.

“But, Bill…”

“This will be your sixth month, and it’s safe to travel until some time into the seventh. You deserve to have a relaxing time before the baby comes and I want to take you away. The hotel has nice alcohol-free drinks, I checked. That’s all, I rest my case.”

Laura chuckles, and he imagines the shake of her head and the look of soft exasperation she’d give him if he was in front of her. It makes him smile. “You have thought of everything. Do I have a choice anymore?”

“You always do. I’m not interested in making you do something you don’t want to do,” he answers sincerely. “We’d escape the cold of Caprica, and go out where it’s warm and sunny. I read that swimming in the sea might be good for you, too.”

“That sounds amazing right now,” Laura sighs, and yawns. There’s a rustle of fabric and an oomph, and she continues. “But you don’t have to do that, Bill.”

“Are we going through that whole exchange again? Where you say I don’t have to, and I say I want to, and you sigh and glare at me before you finally agree?”

He hears Laura make a sound, but can’t make out what it is. “I suppose we’re not. So where are we going?” she asks.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Bill.”

The impatience in her voice makes Bill’s smile widen. Teasing her is going to be its own kind of fun. “I’m not saying.”

“Like hell you aren’t,” Laura scoffs. “I know how to make you talk.”

“No, I don’t think you do.”

“Are you challenging me, Bill? You won’t be the bragging soldier when I’m done with you.”

Somehow, Bill’s mind isn’t on the holiday anymore, but on the delicious torture he knows Laura perfectly capable of inflicting. His pants tighten, and he finds he actually wants her to try and get the information out of him now. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

Laura laughs. “I’m not saying.”

#

There are too many boxes. 

It’s hard to know how much stuff you have lying around the place until you have to pack it all up and move, isn’t it? Laura certainly thinks so, cursing herself for hoarding so many objects, tools, souvenirs and books. She doesn’t regret the books, no. Never. 

“Be careful with those, they’re a limited edition,” Laura warns, sitting on the floor and sorting through some papers and old notebooks as her sister stacks some more books - where do they even come from at this point? - in a box.

There’s folders upon folders of research she did for her doctorate just sitting in a box, and she’s going through them to keep what she might use again, and throw away the rest. Moving is definitely the perfect moment to get rid of the things that merely take some space because you’re too busy to deal with them. She’ll have a lot of new stuff to buy with the baby, so if she can get rid of some things now, it’s all the better. 

“I’m not throwing them from the roof,” Cheryl rolls her eyes, placing a book on the pile delicately, as slowly as possible, as if Laura had hit a slow motion button. Laura shakes her head and goes back to the pile on her lap. It feels wrong to have her sister do that while she sorts through papers, but she’s been up for a while already, and her back hurts, so this is a nice break. “Sandra says she and Josh met Bill last time he was there. When do I get to?”

Laura looks up from a ten-page printout that’s for sure going to the trash. “Whenever you want, but don’t talk about his ex again. And he was at your wedding, so you’ve met him.”

“I had other things to do at my wedding, I didn’t pay attention,” Cheryl shrugs. “I can’t promise I won’t mention her. She’s heartbroken. She thought they’d get back together eventually.”

Laura frowns. “Cher, I don’t care. We’re having a baby together.”

“So? Are you actually together?”

Laura’s traitorous heart clenches, and she shakes her head. Is it wrong of her that she wishes they were? Everything would be so much simpler, but she already forces Bill into so much. “No. I don’t think he wants that, but that doesn’t change the facts.”

“The fact is that he’s single and can do whatever he wants,” Cheryl continues, and Laura isn’t sure why her sister is pressing the matter so much, but she’s quickly growing annoyed. 

“Exactly. He doesn’t need you setting him back up with his ex,” Laura replies, close to snapping - or crying at this point - but she keeps control of her voice. 

“The books are all in there,” Cheryl announces, defusing what would otherwise have been a fight. There’s always a lot of friction between the oldest and the youngest, which is why they both get along better with Sandra than with each other. Still, she’s here to help, and Laura can only be grateful for that. 

The real estate agent was right, packing her life while also growing a baby is not the most enjoyable thing. It’s not like she has any other choice anyway.

“Thank you,” Laura says, taking in the many boxes that are entirely filled with books. She still has no regrets, but is happy she hired movers for that one. 

Cheryl picks up a book again that’s on top of one of the boxes. “The waterfalls of Aerilon,” she reads as she looks at the picture of the largest, most impressive waterfalls of the Colonies. It's part of a book of gorgeous pictures of the best spots in the Twelve Colonies that Laura's got as a present once. She's always loved travelling, but has very little time for it. “We saw that on the honeymoon. It was so beautiful.” 

“I’m still waiting to see the pictures,” Laura says, putting her report of _A Dark and Lonely Night_ in the ‘keep’ pile.

“I can show you now.”

So they take a break to display Cheryl’s honeymoon pictures on Laura’s tv, and between one comment or another, Laura’s mind wanders to the trip Bill has planned. She has some clues for now, but very little. They’re not staying on Caprica, since he mentioned traveling as in flying; they’re going somewhere warm, since she’s not swimming outside in the winter weather Caprica is currently engulfed in. But that’s it. She’s not sure why he’s doing this, but he left her no time to protest, and she doesn’t even _want_ to protest. She wants them to spend an entire week together, not one day here and there, and takes walks on the beach.

After Cheryl leaves that night, the feeling that Bill might slip out of her reach at any point stays with her, and Laura cries and blames the hormones, again. 

#

The back pain gets worse after Laura stands for a while, and as she finishes her last class before lunch, she has trouble focusing.

“Don’t forget that you have an exam before the break,” she reminds the students already packing their things. 

She always gets irritated about losing ten minutes of class because they’re getting their things out in the first five and packing them up in the last five. That’s what happens with having such a large class, she can’t control each and every one of them. In the end, it’s up to them to pay attention. If she felt like teaching them a lesson, she’d include some content discussed at the end of classes in the coming exam, but she won’t… or maybe just one question or two, see who actually listens.

The room empties as fast as humanly possible and Laura picks up a paper on the floor and sets it back on the desk. She presses her hand to the base of her spine to try and relieve the tension and jumps when she feels another set of hands on her. She gasps in surprise and whips around, but the sudden movement makes her feel lightheaded and she has to hold onto the desk or fall.

Hands settle over her hips to help keep her upright, and she finally sees enough to peer into the face of Richard Adar. 

“Wow there,” he says, his voice sweet and way too close to Laura’s face. “You should sit down.”

“I’m fine,” Laura snaps, taking a step back. She takes both of Richard’s hands on her and pushes them away.

“I only meant to help you,” he defends. “You looked unstable.”

Laura sends him a look. _And who surprised me like that?_ “I’m sure you did. What can I do for you, Mr Adar?”

“I came to see how my favourite teacher is doing. I really didn’t mean to startle you,” Richard says and he’s not menacing in the slightest, but Laura finds herself holding her bump in a protective embrace.

Bill keeps sucking marks into her skin and she lets him even though it’s ridiculous - as if her pregnant belly wasn’t enough of a repellent for other men - but she’s actually growing to like it, especially in this situation. All of them have faded away since they last saw each other, but if she thinks about it, she can still feel Bill’s lips marking his favourite spot just above her hip bone, his teeth scraping the skin, and it fills her with comfort. She can’t think about it too much, though, or she’ll have another problem, and being flustered around her determined-to-frak-her boss cannot be helpful.

“We just crossed another book off the reading list today,” Laura explains, preferring to stick to class talk. “This class is going well. Do you have any idea when Marta is coming back? I’m keeping a report on everything we’re covering and every assignment for her.”

“That’s very good. Thank you, Laura,” Richard replies. “I don’t have any more information about her return, unfortunately. When are _you_ leaving?”

Laura cocks her head to the side in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Maternity leave. We haven’t talked about you giving birth in the middle of the academic year yet. I was waiting for you to come to me, but it seems you’re avoiding me.”

Laura ignores his claim that she’s avoiding him. She’s not, but she also doesn’t have time to go to his office to chat. “I’ll need to check about that. But I intend to work as long as I can.” 

“You need to relax a little, Laura,” Richard says with a flirtatious smile. “All this work can’t be good for your boy, or your girl. What are you having?”

Has he got more annoying since the party? It certainly feels like it. “I don’t know, Mr Adar, what are _you_ having?” she asks back.

His gaze flickers to her mouth and she has a feeling he wants to answer 'you', in which case she'll have no choice but to punch him. 

He doesn't, thankfully, and she keeps her fist intact. “I didn’t know you were in a committed relationship,” Richard comments, following her as she walks out of the room.

Laura glares at him, as she does anyone who wants to discuss her love life. “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“In a way that isn’t appropriate to talk with my boss,” she replies, hoping that will finally shut him up. It doesn’t.

“The dinner offer still stands if you want to talk about it outside of here.” 

She’s sure his charming smile works on many women and makes them weak in the knees, but they’re not five months pregnant and in a weird relationship with their baby’s father. She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d still go after her when she’s visibly otherwise engaged, but it still baffles her, and she’s losing patience. 

#

When he walks into sickbay with a hand to his ribs, pain shooting through him with every breath, Bill knows he’s gonna get an earful. And he’s right. He goes through X-rays before he sits, bare-chested on one of the beds and Cottle walks up to him, letting out an exasperated breath.

“I don’t know what’s up with you, flyboys,” he grunts with a shake of his head as he hangs the x-rays copies on a lightbox near the bed. Bill only raises an eyebrow at him. “Three cracked ribs, and you’re lucky they’re not broken. Do I want to know what the frak you were thinking?”

The doctor hands him an ice pack and Bill presses it to his side, angry purple bruises the reason for this particular trip to sickbay after he insisted he was fine for hours. Cold on the swelling is both a relief and a pain, and Bill grits his teeth. 

“I fell onto a control centre,” he says, glancing at the x-ray of his torso and Cottle shakes his head once more and lits up another cigarette.

“Do you know the force required to crack someone’s rib?” 

“You should see the other guy,” Bill tries to joke, but winces at the pain that laughing brings.

“You’ll get pain medication for that. There’s not much to be done but rest and wait. So it’s three weeks on the no-fly list, congratulations.”

“I can’t do three weeks,” Bill argues, as if the man in front of him cared about that.

“Do you want four instead? I can do that too.”

“No, I’m fine. It was just a prank gone wrong. I can fly.”

“The Commander will be happy to know that. You’re not leaving this bed until I say so,” Cottle says briskly, which Bill thinks is a bit unfair considering he hasn’t been reckless and ended up in sickbay for months. Unconsciously, he’s been more careful since knowing he’s going to have a child. Until today. How is Laura going to take it? The thought of her being unhappy with him being hurt makes his smile falter. 

As he leans back against the pillow, he realises something about that encounter with Cottle. He’s seen much more of Laura’s doctor in the past few months than he has the military doctor, and her bubbly personality stands as a deep contrast against Cottle’s grumpy behaviour. He’s got used to her gentle questions and advice instead of curt instructions and a carelessness for what patients think.

It’s actually better that it’s this way than the other way around, and thinking about Laura and Cottle makes him chuckle, which in turn, sends a jolt of pain through his body. He suspects they’d get along after a while, but they probably will never meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pining is about to get real, you guys...


	10. Enamored pt. I

**Week 19**

Moving day.

Laura’s stomach flutters nervously as she watches her apartment slowly being emptied. For the last few days, she wasn’t sure she could do it. She had too much to do, too little time, and back aches that meant frequent breaks. But here she stands now, having managed to fit her life into those boxes and ship them off to a new place, another reminder of the next step in her life. 

Bill isn’t there though, and she has no news, which doesn’t help her upset stomach. He was supposed to arrive last night, and she waited as late as she possibly could before laying her head down on the pillow. It’s not like him to be late like that.

So she helps to carry things to the moving truck to avoid the blues of leaving the place that’s been her home for the last few years, and the worry of not knowing where Bill is. She’s conscious only to carry light things, and the movers keep telling her not to, but she doesn’t listen. That is, until another voice tells her to stop, and she drops the box full of pillows she was carrying, turns to Bill who smiles sheepishly at her.

“This contains pillows, so I’m sure I’m not going to exert myself. If you tell me I'm now allowed to carry pillows, I'm going to kill you very slowly,” she says even as she walks to Bill to hug him, because she can’t help it. Not seeing him for such lengths of time is getting harder, for some reason. “And where have you been?” 

Bill winces when she touches him and she takes a step back to look him up and down, evaluating what could be wrong. He’s hurt, that much is obvious. “I had to fight my way out of the ship,” he says. Joking, she hopes. 

“What happened?” Laura asks, taking Bill’s hand and leading him inside. They sit on the stairwell that leads to her floor, because she’s not waiting to hear the story.

“I’m fine. Couple of cracked ribs, nothing major.”

“Are you kidding me, Bill?” Laura exclaims indignantly. “Nothing major?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Bill replies. “Don’t make me laugh.”

She glares at him, “I had no such intention, believe me.”

“Getting movers wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If I do anything else than breathe and keep still, Cottle will have my head,” Bill says, sitting up straighter and bringing a hand to his left side. 

“Who’s that?”

“The onboard doc.”

“Seems like a reasonable man, unlike you.”

“I’m fine, Laura,” he says gently, resting his other hand above Laura’s belly that seems to grow so much every time he leaves and comes back. “How are you?”

Her glare doesn't subside but she sighs and covers his hand with hers. “I’m fine, too.”

Bill shakes his head with a small smile. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“Yes, you did."

"I'm fine," he repeats, in a way that only grows Laura’s frustration. "It's already been a week. I don't feel it anymore." 

Laura snorts at that and holds a finger just in front of his ribs. "Oh yeah? So if I poke you right there, you're not gonna feel anything? Should I try? I’m ready." 

Bill grabs her finger before she can act on her threat and narrows his eyes at her. "I don't like it when you're right, you know that?"

Laura’s lips curl into a triumphant grin. "I know. What are we going to do if neither of us can move boxes?"

“I can-” she simply looks at him once more, not needing to voice aloud any more threats, and for his own sake, it’s better not to finish that sentence. “You never answered my question about how you’re doing.”

“I did. I said I’m fine.”

Bill shakes his head. “Just like _I’m_ fine? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just the usual- don’t you dare poke me,” Laura warns around a laugh. “We can stay up there until they’re done, then go over to the house and do it all in reverse.”

So they do, and Bill keeps being unhappy about not being able to help, but that’s his own fault. Laura got a chair out of the truck first to be able to sit down and relieve her back, but in the end, there’s too much to do, and once the kitchen boxes arrive, she starts putting the tableware away in the cupboards. Bill helps, probably having learned that making it go faster is a more successful solution than trying to stop her.

“My friend’s wife suggested the four of us get together for dinner. What do you think?” he asks.

“I think that I’d like to meet them,” Laura agrees, setting a small stack of plates on the counter. Bill snorts and she tilts her head towards him. “What?”

“I’m not sure about that,” he replies with what seems like a groan. 

“Yet you offered to see them.”

“I had to relay the offer,” Bill shrugs. “You’ll see.”

Intrigued, Laura looks at him as she sorts the pile of cutlery but doesn’t say anything else.

It’s late when everything is transferred to this new house and Laura is more tired than she remembers ever being. She drops down on the couch that’s not even at the place she wants it to stay and puts a cushion under her legs. Bill settles next to her, bringing them both hot drinks.

“We’ve done a good job,” he comments, handing Laura a mug which she accepted gratefully.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you carry some boxes.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you not take breaks.”

They look at each other and both shake their heads at the same time. They’re each as bad as the other. 

“So this is it,” Bill says after another moment and a sip of tea, a distant expression on his face that makes Laura wonder what he’s thinking. Perhaps he’s thinking the same as her, how crazy this all is.

“This is it,” she repeats, emotion forming a lump in her throat that refuses to go away. This is where their child will grow up. It’s done, it’s there, and soon, so will the baby. “I want you to have a key, if you’d like that.”

Bill’s expressive eyes meet hers, and it hits her. It comes out of nowhere like one of those huge Battlestars coming straight for her lungs and knocking the breath out of her. It’s silly, really, how she hasn’t noticed it before. She has longed to see him when he was away, waited for his phone calls so she could hear his voice, cared what he thought of her decisions, got worried when he hurt himself, imagined what their life would be like if they were a regular couple… yet it didn’t cross her mind. How could she even think it was just physical? Sure, it started that way, and was their main link for a while, but it’s far more than that. It’s the warmth that spreads through her chest when he smiles, the care he puts into everything he does to support her, the way his eyes lit up when he’s teasing her, or the underlying tenderness every time they touch. 

She’s in love with Bill. 

She’s in love, and there’s nothing to be done. He already feels a lot more obligated than he should, going as far as taking her on a holiday so she’ll be more relaxed. He was even willing to marry her without knowing anything about her, for the sake of the Gods. Knowing about her feelings would make him miserable, pressured. That he was willing to do all of that for his child was so much more than she thought would happen when she was looking for her nameless one-night stand, but being stuck with her because of her decision to keep the baby isn’t something she’s willing to do to him. 

“I’d like that,” Bill answers, and she doesn’t remember what he’s even replying to. He notices her looking lost and reaches out to take her hand, the gentle touch sending another wave of ravaging feelings. “It’s been a long day. You should get some rest.”

“I should,” she forces the words out and stands up again, turning her head away from him so he couldn’t see her eyes glistening with the tears she refuses to let out. She walks to the table where she’s placed all the paperwork for the move, grabs a spare set of keys, and sets it in front of him.

It only takes a few days for Laura to get a hold of herself, though, and for her dramatic side to back off. Nothing’s changed, really. There’s no use ruining what they have by either expressing her feelings or moping around wishing for a different reality. Nothing _needs_ to change. 

#

**Week 20**

Since Bill can’t fly, he’s been staying on the planet doing administrative work, which is a much, much bigger pain than fissured ribs. At least, he’s got to see a lot more of Laura and help her settle in, since he couldn’t be there to pack with her before the move.

Saul is off for the weekend, and they’ve agreed to have dinner with Ellen and Laura, which he’s sure is going to be a fiasco. He wonders what Ellen’s play was when she suggested it, but he had to bring the offer to Laura, who agreed, unaware as she is to what’s awaiting her. She insisted that they do it at her house, too, which means that they’ve both had to cook for a good part of the afternoon. 

As Bill stirs sauce for the main course, Laura comes back to the kitchen and dips a spoon into the preparation to taste it. Her hair is tied back, but her white sweater shouldn’t get anywhere near tomato sauce.

“They’ll be there in half an hour, is that right?” she asks, and Bill nods. “I was thinking; I want to do some shopping for the baby now that I have a dedicated room to put all that stuff in. They say it’s one of the most exciting parts of expecting, so if you feel like it, I could use an extra pair of arms.”

Bill is quick to accept, somewhat relieved that she still wants him around. She’s been acting strangely over the past week, but he tries not to think too much of it. She’s going through a lot, and no matter what he does to help, she still has to do most of the legwork of carrying their baby, so she’s more than allowed to have off moments. The more time passes, the happier he is that he got her to agree to get away for a while in a few weeks. That she was prepared to do all of this alone still boggles his mind. 

“I can finally put my construction skills to good use on that crib,” Bill grins at Laura who makes a noncommittal noise. She’s not convinced. “I’ll prove it to you, you’ll see.”

“Sure you will. If you hurt yourself again, I’ll kill you myself,” Laura threatens, and there’s no doubt she’s serious. “We have that appointment on Wednesday.”

“There’s no way I’m going to forget about it. We’re going to see our son.”

Laura rolls her eyes. “It’s not because you say a hundred times that it’s a boy that it’s going to be one. I don’t think the baby understands your chain of command.”

“I don’t like it when orders aren’t followed.”

“Take it up with your daughter. I’m just the messenger.” 

They’ve kept fighting over the last week about what they’re having, and Laura doesn’t mind either way, but since Bill keeps saying it’s a boy, she tales the other side just to annoy him. It works, most of the time, which amuses her to no end.

Bill is sure Laura thinks him macho or something for wanting a boy, but he’s just sure he’ll screw it up if it’s a girl. That’s not to say he won’t screw it up if it’s a boy, but it’s a tiny bit less scary, being able to rely on his own experience. At this point, he almost doesn’t want to know to avoid the added stress, but ‘ignorance is bliss’ is such a stupid thing that people say that he’ll want to find out anyway. 

“You’re a beautiful messenger, so I’ll forgive you.”

Laura shakes her head at the cheesy line, but her soft smile shows her appreciation.

The doorbell rings, and they both make their way to the door. The ground floor of the house is almost tidy now, with the first floor still full of unpacked boxes, but enough is settled downstairs that Laura is fine with having guests.

The first thing they see is the bottle of alcohol in Ellen’s hand, which only promises how much of a disaster this is going to be. Her eyes widen when they fall on Laura and her inflated midsection. “Saul still didn’t believe you were actually pregnant, but I think this is proof enough.”

“Why would you think that?” Laura asks, assessing the both of them.

Saul looks Laura in the eyes, and they just hold each other’s gazes for a while, a silent appraisal. “Looking out for my friend, that’s all,” he explains, at last. 

Ellen shrugs and hands Bill her coat before walking further into the house. “We brought our own,” she shakes the bottle in her hand. “Figured you wouldn’t have any, with the…” she makes a gesture of having a round stomach - much bigger than any pregnant woman ever has. 

“Wonderful,” Laura smiles, one that is too wide and filled with irritation and thoughts of how to get rid of the woman as soon as possible.

This thought stays with her all through dinner, especially when Ellen pretends to have dropped something so she can bend down and almost push her bottom in Bill’s face. 

Laura’s never wanted a drink more than she does at this moment.

Thankfully, they broach many topics, the Fleet - which irritates Ellen, the university, their opinion on the baby - which irritates Laura, the upcoming elections, and even the situation on Sagittaron. 

It’s almost bearable, until Bill makes the mistake of bringing the conversation back to their personal lives. “So you two are getting married,” he says.

“I don’t know why she said yes,” Saul says and Ellen beams at him. 

“We are!” she exclaims, a high-pitched sound that hurts Bill’s ears. “But oh Bill, you surprise me. I thought you were such a traditionalist. Marriage, then children. What happened?”

Bill glances at Laura before he replies. “In my defense, I asked and she said no.”

“If you count ‘oops I knocked you up, let’s get married’ a proposal,” Laura retorts, hoping her water would turn into wine. 

Ellen gasps and her laugh fills the room again. “Poor Bill.” 

“Are you planning on having children then?” Laura asks. She’s mostly been staying quiet and hoping time will move faster, but she desperately needs the conversation to steer away from them again.

Bill smirks at that, and the horrified air on Saul’s face is all the answer Laura needs. “No, we’re not going to scar any child like that.”

“I don’t want to blow up like a balloon,” Ellen adds, which is already bad, but the pointed look she gives Laura is worse.

When Bill chances a glance at Laura again, he’s sure she’s planning the quickest way to kill him. He wouldn't even resist, at this point.


	11. For kicks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one ended up on the short side, but I kinda like it the way it is, so... oh well!  
> If you guys are into that sort of thing, I made a playlist... again: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2hl5CkikKgMxAavj7f3oIN

**Week 21**

The envelope sits on the desk, Bill and Laura on either side of it. 

They argued so much at the doctor’s office that they left the place with an envelope and the answer inside to decide on their own time. Laura thought she wanted to know, before, thought it would be best, but when the time came and she looked at the monitor, she found herself shaking her head. Bill wasn’t happy with that, of course, the man wants to plan and learn as much as possible.

“This is ridiculous,” Bill groans and grabs the envelope. “We’re not going to stand around for the whole day. You said you had class in fifteen minutes, and we need to know.”

Laura snatches it away from him and puts it back on the table. “Don’t you dare touch this.” She sits down, keeping an eye on the answer in front of them. “What’s so important about it anyway? We can wait, can’t we?”

“But why wait? It makes no sense. We need the information.”

“This isn’t a battle to fight on your ship,” Laura remarks. “This is our baby.”

Bill sighs. “I know that.”

“Look, if you want to know, you can open it, but I don’t, so you have to keep it to yourself.”

Laura watches him process the offer, hesitate, look between her bump and the envelope, and finally reach for the answer. His face gives nothing away as he opens it, and now Laura is dying to know. A boy, that would please him, or the first girl of her generation after Sandra’s three boys? He closes the envelope again and puts it back on the desk, then looks at Laura once more. He knows that teased her, and is simply waiting for her to crack and take a look. She was tempted before, but now she’s not going to give him the satisfaction. 

“Do you feel any better knowing?” she asks.

“I feel neutrally about it,” he replies, and the ridiculousness of it makes Laura chuckle. There’s something there, though, as much as he tries to hide it. He’s happy. Must be a boy.

Why is she trying to guess? But also, why is she trying to keep the surprise? She doesn’t even like surprises. 

“Sure you do,” she smiles at him and stands back up, picking up her class material. “Walk me to class?”

Bill nods, taking the books and notepad from her so she can take his arm as they walk out of her office. “Walking someone to class reminds me of my high school girlfriend.”

Laura raises an eyebrow at him, biting her lip to keep from laughing. She has a reputation to maintain at the university. “Did you knock her up, too?” she teases after making sure they’re far enough from prying ears.

“I kept it all for you, aren’t you glad?” His smile answers hers, and this time, she has to giggle.

“Lucky me.”

They walk in the classroom together and Bill sets down Laura’s stuff on the desk. He leans closer and brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “I’ll see you later,” he says softly, in a way that makes her heart long for him to stay.

One of the students wolf-whistles and Laura retorts that if he spent more time studying and less caring about her personal life, he wouldn’t be failing the class. That shut him up. 

#

Laura is even more grateful for her list-making tendencies when they start shopping. There’s too many things to buy, too many things to keep in mind, and the notebook she carries around is almost glued to her hand. No crib with drop sides, headboard with no cutouts, one size bigger clothes, a stroller with quality wheels, changing pads and one of the many, many types of diapers. And that’s only the first page.

“What’s a 4-in-1 crib anyway?” Bill groans as they stand in an alley full of an unimaginable number of different cribs. They’ve been there a while, and now, all those baby beds are starting to blend together, unidentifiable from each other. At least, he’s as frustrated as she is, so they can grumble together.

“That’s the one that converts into a car,” she jokes with a tired smile. “Convenient when the baby starts driving.”

Bill looks at her and laughs. “Ok, this one is out then.”

“I think the one at the end is still the best bet, and frankly, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Bill walks back to her and strokes a hand down her back. “There’s still plenty of time to get the rest. We can leave now.”

Laura shakes her head. “We at least need to look at a mattress for the crib. They say we should buy those together. And seating for the nursery.”

“Seating?”

Laura nods, reading notes on her notebook as she walks, a dangerous activity which Bill keeps telling her not to do, especially when she almost runs into someone. “Feeding, rocking, and more. Sandra says getting a rocking chair changed her life.”

“How is she, by the way?”

Laura looks up and closes the notebook, making her way to the alley with, once again, too large a choice of chairs. “Only a few weeks away and going crazy. I hope the babies won’t come while we’re gone.”

“They wouldn’t be so rude as to disturb that for you,” Bill says, and the look she gives him makes him chuckle. “What?”

“Do you know where I was when she had Romain? About to meet my ex’s family. Me not going in the end threw our whole relationship, I’m pretty sure.” 

More than the embarrassing memory, thinking about Shaun brought another realisation. His wedding. Frak. She completely forgot about it. “He’s getting married. It’s when we’re away and I forgot about it.”

“Did you want to go?”

Laura shrugs. “Not particularly. I’m not sure why he even invited me. It’s weird to invite exes to your wedding. Feels a lot like rubbing it in your face.”

“So I guess I shouldn’t invite my ex to ours.”

“Ours?” Laura frowns, stopping in her tracks.  _ Is he serious? _ Emotion wells up and she clears her throat but the lump that formed at the thought refuses to subside. Bill’s face gives nothing away, once again, and she silently curses his ability to keep things hidden like that.

He seems to be studying her with the same intensity, and then their eyes meet. “It was a joke, Laura,” he eventually says, and why is she disappointed? “Let’s have a look at those rocking chairs.”

Laura shakes her head to clear it and resumes walking. He hasn’t mentioned marriage since that unfortunate proposal after the first doctor appointment they attended together, the one where they couldn’t stop fighting. Surely, he didn’t want to marry her then. She didn’t either, for that matter. And now...

#

Damn that frakking bathroom mirror. Why did it have to be there just in front of the shower? 

Laura sighs and looks away from it. She grabs a towel, rubbing it over her skin, but her eyes are attracted back to her reflection. Not vainly, but rather with a thought of how it’s come to this. If her head wasn’t attached to that body in the reflection, she’s not sure she’d say it was hers. She’s gained weight, has stretch marks around the bottom of her belly, with some even reaching her thighs, and there’s no other word to describe her ankles and feet but puffy. Have her cheeks puffed up as well? She’s stared so much that she can’t tell anymore. She knew the cliches of the women saying they feel like whales, making people laugh, and maybe that’s her already, not even into the third trimester.

As she walks back into her bedroom, there’s a strange feeling in her stomach. She dismisses it at first, and it stops, but then starts again. Could it be…? She heard how most first-time mothers miss the baby’s first kicks because they’re so soft and feel similar to fluttering in their stomachs. Laura sits down on the edge of the bed and rests a hand above her navel, thinking that perhaps, she’d feel it better like that.

Sure enough, she feels it again, and a smile breaks out on her face. Seeing the baby on the monitor at the doctor’s never failed to make her cry, but this… this proof of life, it’s overwhelming. The timing is funny, too, as if the baby sensed her thoughts and wanted to remind her why she’s doing this, who her body is nurturing, sheltering until it’s ready to meet the outside world. She swallows heavily, rubs over the spot where the baby’s limb hit as it stretched, and immediately thinks of how Bill needs to feel it. She can already see how his eyes will sparkle at the realisation, and her smile grows. 

She gets up too quickly and has to hold on to the bedpost for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning. When it does, she reaches into her wardrobe and pulls out some clothes to wear. She wanted to shower when they came back from the store, and now Bill is alone downstairs. Although she could go down just like this, she won’t.

She hasn’t let him see her in a few weeks now - and yes, she misses his touch terribly, but isn’t about to start again now. She already has enough trouble looking at herself in the mirror, she doesn’t need to see the way he’ll look at her now. She’s not sure she can handle on his face the same look that’s on hers when she looks in the mirror - and it’s even more vulnerable now that she’s admitted to herself that she’s in love with Bill.

The changes in her body are only going to get worse, too, and a fleeting thought has her wonder how she's going to swim in the sea during their holiday if she doesn’t want people to see her. That’s a problem for later, though.

Once dressed, she walks down the stairs and Bill is sitting on the couch, waiting for her. He looks up when she sits next to him, then notices the tears pooling in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, instantly straightening up.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She shakes her head, smiles at him, brings his hand to the kicking spot, although the baby might have moved by now, and waits.

Nothing happens for a while, and Bill’s gaze that had gone from concerned to curious, comes back around to worried. Then his eyes widen, and snap up to meet Laura’s.

“Is that-?” he stopped. “Did she kick?”

Laura nods... before she realises what he just said. Her heart rate picks up. “She?”

Bill looks terrified for a second, then he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just… got excited. She kicked.”

But Laura merely grins, making him relax again. “We’re having a girl,” she repeats, just for the sake of it. It feels good.

She rests her head on Bill’s shoulder and he presses his lips to her forehead. They stay like that, basking in the serenity of the moment, until the baby gets some rest and they do, too.


	12. Enamored pt. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, every time: so here's the outline for this story  
> My brain by chapter 10: nah I don't think I will (see the Old Captain America meme lol)

**Week 23**

“What about Olivia?”

“Or Chloe.”

“Laura junior.”

“Really, Bill?” Laura shakes her head, and Bill thinks about how much of a good idea it is to say nonsense just to see her giggle like that. “This child doesn’t need to be named like me. I’m not that egotistic.”

He turns to her, delighting in the sight of her wide smile and relaxed stance. Laura, her hair catching in the sun, a long dress flowing around her, curves hinting at their daughter's development, is a sight he'll never tire of. 

They arrived on Picon late last night to the hotel he picked. He checked with Laura’s doctor beforehand that it was okay for her to go - the woman was too excited at the prospect, but then, she seemed over-eager about everything. Getting here had tired Laura out, though, even though she didn’t want to admit it. They spent the morning resting, as a result, and just now ventured outside for a walk to explore the surroundings.

“Zoey,” Laura speaks again, but Bill shakes his head.

“Sounds weird.”

Laura rolls her eyes. “It’s not worse than Olivia.”

“What’s wrong with Olivia?” Bill asks curiously.

“She doesn’t feel like an Olivia.” 

“Oh because she has to _feel_ like names now? No one told me,” he says, and Laura playfully hits his arm.

“You know what I mean,” she replies, but he really doesn’t.

“We still have time. Are you hungry? We can check out the hotel’s restaurant, see what they’re offering.” They’ve completed a lap of the neighborhood and stand in front of the hotel again, so this is the perfect moment to stop. It’s still early, but they had a light lunch, and if they eat now, they can watch the sunset afterwards, which is Bill’s plan.

“I don’t know if I am, or if she is, but we’re starving,” Laura agrees, walking back into their hotel. 

They get seated at a table near the window and enjoy the view outside as much as the one in front of them. They order those cocktails that were one of Bill’s arguments as to why they needed to come to this particular hotel, and clink their glasses together.

“This is really nice, Bill, thank you,” Laura says, although he thinks the smile that hasn’t left her face since they arrived is thank-you enough.

“Maybe next time you won’t fight to stay on Caprica where it’s cold and rainy,” he teases. 

“Next time?” she asks, and he shrugs. They keep having these almost-moments of talking about the future, and then they don’t. It’s frustrating, but talking about it risks whatever this is being ruined. “I can say I won’t, but you know that’s not true.”

“You never make it easy for me, I know that.”

Laura shakes her head but doesn’t reply. 

“How did your students do on their exam?” Bill asks later when they start eating. “They had an exam, right?”

“Yes, they did. Unfortunately, I won’t know how they did until I get back,” Laura answers, taking a sip of water. “I’ll come back to hundreds of papers to mark.”

Bill winces at that. “That’s a lot. One of my teachers used to say he threw papers down the stairs and marked them accordingly.”

Laura snorts a laugh. “It’s a myth, we’re not actually allowed to do that.”

“So you researched the topic?”

“No, it wouldn’t be fair. I mean, quick, but not fair.”

“Your boss would have no problem with that, I’m sure.”

“Good thing he’s not a teacher, then,” Laura shrugs, and when Bill looks at her curiously, she continues. “He manages the university. It’s a whole different set of skills. But anyway, those few papers I managed to read before we left were promising. Those marks are almost as important for me as they are for them.”

“Is your success at work linked to theirs, then?”

“Partly, there’s also research, articles and teacher review. I’ll have a first idea of that sometime in March.”

Bill looks up from his near-empty plate. “But you won’t be working by then, right?”

Laura sighs. “I need to see with the university when I’ll stop. I have a bit over a week before they need the information.”

“I’m glad that you steered away from the idea of working until you go into labour.” 

“What about you?” Laura asks back. 

“I’ll definitely work until I feel contractions,” Bill replies, knowing it’s not what she’s asking, but it makes her smile in that way she does when she’s amused. “I’ll be there as much as I can.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Laura says pointedly, and he knows she’s not going to let this go. But then it’s his fault for bringing it up. There’s no way to tell her the situation with the Fleet without bringing up marriage again, but every time he does, things get awkward.

“Only married men are covered,” he sighs, watches Laura’s face as understanding settles.

“Is that why you proposed back then? If you need to, maybe we-”

“No, not like this,” he cuts her off with a resolute shake of his head. “You were right before. We shouldn’t marry out of obligation.”

Laura nods, and if she looks a little sad, his brain pretends not to see it.

They leave the restaurant after dessert, but by the time they’re out, the sun has already set. They take a walk down the beach anyway with just their feet in the water, and the tension dissolves as they throw more name ideas at each other. 

#

 _I’m in love with Laura_ , his brain declares, to which his heart laughs, and laughs, and laughs. _Yes, thanks genius_. His heart is cruel in that way, but then his brain is also a special brand of blind.

Bill’s not quite sure what made him think that, maybe it’s being away from home, away from the worries of everyday life, or maybe it’s seeing the way he looks at Laura replicated on every other couple’s faces. 

He glances over at the woman he hasn't stopped thinking about, the mother of his child, the one who drives him crazy and indulges his heart. He stops her as they walk on the beach, places a gentle hand under her chin, and brings his lips to hers. They've kissed hundreds of times by now, but only in passion and lust, and this kiss is everything Bill has ever wanted it to be, slow and tender, a tribute to the beautiful and tenacious storm who entered his life six months ago and above all, a promise of affection, support, and every word those lips of his can't form. 

She smiles at him when he pulls back, and they don’t talk about it, but they keep kissing.

They come back to the room before dinner for Laura to grab a jacket, but then they’re kissing again, and he doesn’t care about food anymore. There’s nothing more important than Laura’s warm lips and the light scraping of her fingers on his scalp. 

When he slides down the strap of her dress, however, she abruptly stops and steps back. “Let’s go get dinner,” she suggests, a little too energetically. 

He almost gets whiplash from the sudden turn of events, but follows her out anyway after taking a calming breath. She’s just not into it, that’s okay.

The next day, though, it happens again, and again the day after that.

Laura has her hands on both sides of his face and his tangling in her hair, and she’s making those delightful kissing sounds he loves so much, the ones that pour fire in his veins. She goes for his shirt, unbuttons it and slides it off before she freezes and lets her hands fall. 

"What's wrong, Laura?" Bill asks gently, stroking her arm.

"I'm not in the mood for that," she replies, but it sounds off, forced. She goes to the bed to sit down, and he steps over his shirt to follow her.

"Is there anything I can do?" 

“No,” she shakes her head, but avoids his gaze, which makes him think something is definitely wrong. “It’s almost dinner time, should we make our way to the restaurant?”

“Is there something wrong with the baby?” Bill insists, because she’s been known to keep things to herself when it disrupts her plans. She looks so uncomfortable, so… he’s not even sure he can place what it is, but it’s new on her, and it makes her shifty.

“She’s fine. As far as I know,” Laura replies, stroking the top of her bump. “Let it go, Bill. Why can’t you accept that I’m not in the mood?”

“Because you started this and almost ripped my shirt off.”

“Look, you haven’t seen me in a while. I’m not-” she pauses, shakes her head. “You don’t want to see me like this, I promise.”

Now that he thinks about it, she hasn’t taken her clothes off at all in the days they’ve been here, and for even longer than that in front of him. When he offered to swim in the sea yesterday, she simply walked in the water up to her ankles, wetting the hem of the long dress she wore. But he can’t understand why she’s feeling like this; she’s gained a bit of weight, finally making it safe for the baby, and between the healthy glow of her skin and the roundness of her belly, an indication of the life she’s creating, she’s more resplendent than a burning star.

His confusion must have been written all over his face, because Laura huffs an exasperated breath and all but glares at him. “Give it a rest, Bill. You know how I’ve been getting. I’m bigger everywhere, the stretch marks, the swelling, my feet have grown for some reason. It’s sweet that you’re pretending like nothing’s changed, but you can’t be enjoying this.”

The strength in Laura’s words completely takes him aback, and he stares at her for a moment too long, feeling dense and ashamed not to have realised the negative feelings she harbours about her new body. How can he make her realise he's being genuine? That she's still perfect in his eyes, despite some of the downsides of the pregnancy? He wished he had his father’s eloquence now, so he could convince her with a powerful speech, let her know she was the most magnificent thing in the worlds. 

“You’re beautiful, Laura,” he eventually says, and cuts off a new wave of protests with a kiss as he kneels in front of her. “You really are. You take my breath away, six months ago and today, all the same. I want to show you how much, will you let me?”

Laura’s guarded eyes meet his when he gently presses on her shoulder so she’d lie on her back. “I told you I didn’t want to do that.”

“You don’t have to do a thing, and this won’t be anything you don’t want me to,” he promises, and sees that Laura’s genuinely listening now. “I just want to show you how much I-” 

_How much I love you._

It’s so crystal clear now, how she's the light of his day, the pride of his heart, the sunshine in his life, how much he's in love with her. But he clears his throat and doesn’t finish that sentence, asking instead, “Can I try something with you? Will you let me?" If he told Laura he loved her now, she’d think he was only saying that to make her feel better; she’d think he wasn’t serious. And he’s never been more serious about anything in his life. 

“Bill.”

“Please? We'll stop if you're uncomfortable, just tell me."

Laura sighs and eventually agrees. He kisses her gently then, and slowly takes off every bit of clothing that hides her body from his sight, checking that it’s still okay every step of the way. Her face is still closed, not letting him see what she’s thinking, how she’s feeling, but she lies down when prompted. His body reacts to seeing hers like it always does but he pushes the feeling away. He can’t afford to screw this up, not when she’s finally trusting him enough to let him do something she’s wary of.

He starts by running soft fingers over her face, smoothing down the lines of worry on her forehead and kisses the tip of her nose.

“I know you don’t feel at your best right now, and I’m sorry,” he says, hand stroking down her neck. “But I’m going to tell you how I see you, so you can see yourself through my eyes.”

He's not so delusional as to believe this will make all of her newfound self-consciousness go away, but hopefully, it might help a little. His hands move down her arms, and back up, going over her collarbones, and meeting again at the hollow of her throat. 

“You’re so strong, and not just emotionally. If I wasn’t mad at you for carrying heavy things, I would’ve praised your strength when you moved,” he says, and Laura responds with a chuckle. He looks up to her face, and she’s at least relaxed slightly since he started.

His hand travels down the side of her breasts as his mind reflects on what to say. “I know you know I love your breasts, because you’ve called me typical before. And I also know they’re ultimately meant for the baby.”

“You do have a slight obsession,” Laura replies with a light smile.

“Then the obvious.” This time, his lips join his hands, pressing kisses from her navel outwards and then down, and over the stretch marks that she hates. “Do you know how much I admire you?” he asks, and prompts again when she doesn’t reply. “Do you, Laura?” 

“No, I don’t.”

“Your body is creating a human being out of almost nothing. That’s impressive.”

Laura’s cheeks flush slightly, and Bill takes his mouth back up her body to kiss her lips. He moves slowly against her, even when she slides her hands down his back and sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, sending a jolt down his body. 

“I’m not done,” he whispers against her lips, and enjoys the excuse of trailing kisses all over her skin again, down her arms, on the inside of her wrists where he feels her pulse growing faster, on each of her fingers, on her stomach and the spot near her hip bone that he loves to mark. Today is no exception, and her breath hitches when his teeth graze the skin.

“Your legs are amazing,” he resumes once he’s reached her thighs. “I thought so when I first met you, and I still do now. And if the swelling gets uncomfortable, books say that putting your feet up helps.”

“I do that… sometimes,” she says in a way that makes him chuckle. So she doesn’t do that. 

He caresses and kisses each of her long legs, down to the sole of her feet, which he lightly tickles, making her squirm.

His supply of words runs out, but his hands and lips keep roaming over every inch of Laura’s glorious, sweet-tasting skin. He loses himself in his worshipping, and when Laura’s hand reaches for him again, he’s not sure how much time has passed, but her breathing has quickened, and the flush has crept down her neck.

“I changed my mind,” she tells him when their eyes meet.

“What do you want?” he asks, for clarification.

She grabs his hand, and places it down on the one spot he’s avoided touching. The grin she gives him makes his heart jump, and, although he didn't think that was possible, want her even more.

“Are you sure? I was only getting started…” he can’t resist teasing.

Laura groans impatiently. “I get it. Beautiful. Now, come on.” 

He wants to draw it out until she begs, tease her until she threatens to take care of it herself, but not today. Today, he'll shower her with affection and everything she wants and needs. When his mouth travels to the top of her thighs to feast on her core, she lets out a shaky sigh that sounds a lot like ‘gods yes’.

Nothing in the worlds is more beautiful or arousing than Laura when he pleasures her, the way her hips move against him, her parted lips, the increasingly loud and erotic sounds coming from her throat, and he has to call upon his self-control to hold back and not bury himself inside her. This is about making her feel good, helping her remember what a goddess she is, added weight or not, stretch marks or not, swollen ankles or not.

He closes his eyes, enjoys the warmth of her as he strokes the centre of her pleasure with his tongue over and over. She moans out some words, one of them his name, threads a hand in his hair, and he keeps up with that particular move, the one that makes a muscle in her thigh uncontrollably twitch.

“Bill, don’t stop…” she moans, her hand pressing his head down almost painfully, as if he could stop, as if he would dare to. 

She suddenly stiffens and lets out a cry, and he lets her ride the wave, eventually taking his mouth off her and dropping soothing kisses on her thighs. He can’t help the rush of pride at having made her feel that way, at her allowing him this close even when she’s this vulnerable.

Laura turns on her side, no longer comfortable on her back and Bill joins her up there, his knuckles brushing the side of her face. Her lips stretch into a slow, content smile, and eventually, she opens her eyes. Bill has to remind his lungs of their primary function, taking in oxygen and keeping him alive. With the way Laura’s heated and happy gaze is on him, he knows she’ll be the death of him. 

She’s not content with leaving it at that, though, pulling him close enough so they can kiss, her tongue slipping past his lips, leaving him no choice but to surrender to it, to her, to the deep unspoken emotions they share. 

They’ve had sex several times, more times than they can count, but tonight… tonight is the first time they make love.

Later, right before he falls asleep, Bill presses a kiss to Laura’s neck and whispers, “I don’t ever want to leave you.”


	13. Major

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea if the Colonial Fleet asks people before promoting them (Laura certainly didn't ask Bill before making him Admiral, but he didn't seem to mind...) but my husband got asked if he wanted to make Major last week so I'm basing it on that. Is this fic my life? We'll never know lol
> 
> Ahem, don't be mad? :D

**Week 25**

Being with Laura on holidays, talking to her, laughing with her, kissing her until they couldn't breathe was like a dream that Bill wished would never end.

But now they woke up. 

Seven days after coming back from Picon, six days after returning to work, three days after receiving the news, Bill gets off his bird, fuming as hard as the wing of the viper. He exchanges curt words with a deckhand and marches away. Nothing’s going his way lately, and that’s the limit. For frak’s sake, he almost died out there because of a loose screw. 

People seem to know better than to stand in the way of an annoyed Adama as he makes his way off the hangar deck, but Saul catches up with him once he’s up the ladder. “Aren’t you supposed to look good when you come back from beach time?”

“It’s been a week, that’s gone now,” he grumbles, thinking back to the holiday. It made his relationship with Laura better in so many ways, and now that they’re back, worse. Strained. He blames what he told her on the fourth day. She wasn’t ready to hear it. Or maybe she didn’t hear it at all. There’s no way he could know that since she never mentioned it. That doesn’t make what he said any less true. He didn’t want to leave her or their bubble. “Are you telling me I look like crap?” Bill glares at his friend, but a sigh isn’t far behind.

“I’m saying you look like you just learned toasters attacked the Colonies and there’s only us left in the universe.”

“So, better than what I’m feeling.”

“What happened?” Saul asks, walking beside him.

Bill rubs his forehead. “I can make Major. But I have to go on this four-week mission, and I might get stationed even further away from Caprica.”

Saul’s eyebrows shoot up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Don’t tell me you’re hesitating. That’s all you’ve ever wanted.”

“Is it?” Bill shakes his head and starts unzipping his flight suit once they get to the pilots’ room. “Shouldn’t I find a civvie job so I can be there for Laura and the baby?” _I hate leaving her. I don’t want to._

Saul quickly becomes red in the face. Of course, he doesn’t like her. “Are you telling me you’ll say no for a frakking woman? and this one at that?”

“Be careful what to say about her. I’m going to be a father, Saul. I don’t know what the frak I’m supposed to do.”

“What’ll happen when she decides she doesn’t need you around anymore?”

Bill snorts at that. That won’t happen, because she already doesn’t need him now. “She already doesn’t. That’s not what this is about.”

“You’re frakking in love with that woman, that’s what this is about. Would you have done that for Carolanne?”

The question takes Bill by surprise and he frowns. Would he have? Likely not. “It’s different. We were never stable.”

“You would’ve ended up marrying her anyway. You’re too… noble.”

Frak, he probably would have. What would have happened if she’d been the one pregnant? She wouldn’t have said no to getting married, or been unreasonable with her own health, he’s almost certain. But being with her doesn’t make him feel alive like Laura does. 

“Noble? I got someone pregnant from a one-night stand. Wouldn’t call that noble.”

“Let that woman marry a politician or something,” Saul says with visible disdain. “You’ll still get to see your kid when you’re down, won’t you?”

A politician. That’s who Laura should be with, and likely who everyone expects her to be with, not him. An intelligent Caprican woman, with a Tauron viper jock? Seems like a joke people tell at the water cooler, the one that makes everyone laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. 

“Yes, but... “ he shakes his head. “I need to call her.”

Talking about it with Laura makes more sense than hearing Saul’s complaints about her. His friend is worried, yes, but will have to learn to get along with the mother of his child. That is, if they can work this out. He’ll tell her about the offer, see what she thinks with the baby, and maybe finally ask her if she wants to give them an official shot. He should’ve done that before. 

#

Something in Laura wishes they could have stayed in their Picon bubble forever, without having to face anything, or anyone, that they could have just kept drowning in each other, never coming up for air. Going back to reality after the trip is like a blow to the face. Laura has too many papers to go over, Bill goes back to space, and things resume their course as if they pressed a big old play/pause button. And maybe that’s the issue, maybe that’s why Laura can’t quite believe that what happened actually did, that they behaved like an honest-to-the-Gods couple, cuddled under the moonlight, made out in the sea, loved like there was no tomorrow.

But there is a tomorrow. She remembers his words, spoken against her skin and making her heart clench. It’s as true and unrealistic as high school sweethearts telling each other they’ll be together forever. She wants to believe it, of course she does, but things have been awkward since they came back. They’re not so sure where they stand anymore, between the baby, work and those damned feelings. Pregnancy, Laura knows, tends to strengthen the feelings that each parent has for the other. Which means that whatever’s there is not real. What they’re feeling is just a chemical reaction. Besides, he’s probably regretting it now, hence the awkwardness.

Laura sighs tiredly, trying to focus on her computer screen and the dense paragraph she’s already read twice. This is only student 51 of 100. Then there’s the pile of actual papers stacked in her drawer. And there’s only a week left to do that. No pressure at all. 

Her phone rings and she picks it up without really looking at it, intent on finishing that sentence before having to speak. Bill’s voice coming through the speaker makes her sit up straighter, which is good because sagging causes her back to ache even more.

“Bill. Hi, how are you?” she asks, rubbing her eyes.

“Good, how are you?”

“She’s fine.”

“I asked about you.”

“No, you asked about her.” Laura puts the phone on the desk, loudspeaker allowing her to still talk and listen. There’s no one else in her office, so she’s not worried about eavesdropping. 

Bill groans and speaks again after a moment. “What’s wrong, Laura?”

“Nothing’s wrong. My brain is full, I can’t deal with half-questions today.”

“What are you doing?” The accusing edge to his tone makes her narrow her eyes.

“Reading about someone trying to argue for something but actually doing the opposite,” she replies, glancing at the screen again.

“It’s Saturday.”

Laura shrugs, seeing on the calendar that he’s right. No wonder the university’s so quiet. “Your point?”

“That _was_ my point. Look, Laura, I need to talk to you about something. Is now a good time?”

Laura swallows, and picks up the phone again. “This sounds serious.” She’s not ready to have this conversation, the one where he’ll explain why he’s been uncomfortable, distant, how he regrets the words he’s said and the things he’s done. But if she doesn’t have a choice in the matter, she at least needs to convey how she feels. 

She should make it clear that he doesn't have to stay around for her sake.

She should make it clear that she _wants him_ to be around regardless. 

That would be foolish. First option, it is.

Hopefully, giving him an out will get them back to the way it was before Picon. She can't handle the pressure of not knowing where they stand right now, and doesn’t expect for him to act like a devoted partner by her side. He's still free, he's always been, and the last thing she wants is for him to be trapped with her because birth control decided she was going to be the 1% for which it wouldn't work. 

“I might-” he starts, but she speaks at the same time, and can’t stop.

“Bill, I wanted to say… you've been amazing to me, and I appreciate it, I do. But I feel like something's changed between us. And I want to make sure that you're okay, and that you know I don't expect you to stay by my side for the rest of our lives, if that’s what’s worrying you. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean that we’ll be stuck together. You don’t ha-”

“No, I understand you,” he interrupts her, his voice holding none of the warmth she’d become used to. “You don’t want to be stuck with me.”

Laura frowns. This isn’t going in the direction she thought it would. "Bill, that's not what I-"

“I made Major. I’ll be away for the next four weeks.”

“Congratulations?” She has no idea what to reply to that. It seems that he’s waiting for her to say something, but she can’t tell what it is. He said he wanted to talk about something, but this feels more like plain telling than discussing. “I’m assuming you won’t make Saturnalia?”

“In two weeks? No, I’ll be gone. I can’t imagine it will get me points with your family.”

“My dad is already not happy, so four more weeks won’t change a thing,” she shrugs, ignoring the gnawing fear that Bill wouldn’t be there for the birth of their child. Of course he would, he’d have time to go on that mission three times before she had to be in the hospital. And he wouldn’t miss it, regardless of what happened between them. “Be careful.” His ribs may have healed, but she knew him perfectly capable of getting a new injury.“I will.”

#

**Week 26**

Reading actual paper is less tiring than the computer screen, but Laura’s still relieved when she writes a comment on the last one, and, finally, is done. It only took the better part of two weeks…

The rasp of someone’s knuckles on the door makes Laura groan, and she doesn’t even know who it is, but it doesn’t matter. There’s been a near constant stream of colleagues and people dropping by ‘just to say hi’ and ask her how she’s doing. As if being pregnant would prevent her from doing her frakking job. “If you ask me how I’m doing, I think I could hit someone. Possibly you,” she says, finally looking up.

Richard laughs and holds up his hands. “All right, Laura, I won’t ask you how you’re doing. But you drive a hard bargain.”

Laura sighs, internally cursing herself for threatening to hit her boss. He doesn’t seem to mind. “Mr Adar, I’m sorry, can I do something for you?”

“Actually, I thought I could do something for you,” he declares, prompting Laura to raise a questioning eyebrow. “You haven’t heard, have you?”

“Heard what?”

“Here I thought that’s why you were…” he clears his throat, thankfully not finishing that sentence. Irritable? Exhausted? Yes to both. “The system is down. There was a bug and we had to restore a backup. I don’t understand all of it, but the reports you put up there have disappeared.”

Laura blinks, rubs her temple, and damns the outdated system they’re using. “Why did you want to help _me_ if everyone’s reports are down?”

Richard laughs again, but since nothing is funny, Laura grows irritated once more. “You’re the only one who put the marks up in advance.”

“They were due today,” Laura reminds him.

He shrugs. “You never believe me that you’re my favourite teacher. And it’s not only because of how exquisite you always look.”

She narrowly resists rolling her eyes. “Not only.”

“I won’t ask how you’re doing if you let me put all of those reports back up with you,” he bargains.

Laura’s not sure that’s a good idea, but accepts. She can’t do it all herself, not today anyway, and she was actually hoping to go home and take a bath to relieve some of the tension she feels everywhere in her body. So they get to work once he gets a computer of his own, and since she’s kept a local copy of all her marks and comments, she doesn’t have to come up with them all over again. Thank the Gods for that.

She’s never quite thought of Adar as being helpful before, but there he is, filling in every student’s profile with the supplied information. People keep surprising her lately. He even makes conversation that is, if not interesting, mildly entertaining, sometimes even bordering on amusing. 

“Your remarks are very thoughtful,” he comments. “Even on this one student who has no clue what they’re saying. I wonder what you’d write on my report.”

Laura gave a small smile. “I’d write, Richard, pay attention to the class instead of staring at the teacher.”

He laughs. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He shrugs and takes out his phone. “This isn’t the dinner I had in mind, but would you like to have something delivered here? I have a feeling food will help us power through the end of it.” 

Laura ponders the idea for a moment, but eventually consents. She’s spending time with him anyway, no need to go hungry on top of that. And it’s not like she’s agreeing to the date he always pushes for. “Nothing spicy, please. I made that mistake last week, and she didn’t appreciate it.” 

Richard stops and looks up from his phone. “I didn’t know you were having a girl.” 

“We found out a few weeks ago.”

“How’s your… friend?”

“How’s your wife?” she replies, tilting her head. What was that question anyway?

She resumes working while he orders dinner, and when the food comes, they take a break. 

They’ve barely started when Laura presses a hand to the spot the baby has heartily kicked all day, refusing to change position. If this baby turns out to be as stubborn as she is, it’s going to be very interesting. Perhaps Laura Junior was right after all. This thought brings Bill back to her mind, and she pushes it away. Figuring out their situation takes more energy than she has left.

Wincing when that same spot is hit again attracts Richard’s attention.

“Is she kicking?” he asks, his eyes full of a curiosity that disconcerts her.

Laura’s right hand joins the left as she studies the man who approached her desk chair. “I’d rather you didn’t,” she says, with maybe a little too much force. He nods and backs down at her words - he’d have known that he couldn’t touch her had he asked, but that seems a foreign concept to him. She elects to change the subject. “Have you found who will take over my classes?”

“I have a name or two in mind.” He doesn’t say who, which intrigues her. “Everyone will miss you.”

“I’m not dying, just having a baby. I’m still here for a while, but do let me know so I can give them my notes.” 

When she gets home that night, she thinks about calling Bill, feeling strange about the evening. Nothing happened - and nothing ever will - but… still. She remembers he’s away for three more weeks and breathes out a sigh, thinking about how she could’ve worded what she told him differently so he wouldn’t have got the wrong impression. She can manage on her own, but maybe she doesn’t want to. 

#

Laura got the call when she was in class, so she had to wait for a break, call back, and then, just then, get excited. The news of her twin nephews arriving into the world pulled a smile out of her. In the last week, Sandra was very adamant about how over it she was and wanted them out already. And now her wish is granted. By the time Laura gets off work, however, visiting hours are over, so she has to wait for the next day to go to the hospital. At least, it won’t be so crowded.

A wave of queasiness rolls through her stomach as she walks through the revolving doors of the hospital, and she’s not sure what to attribute it to. Excitement? Nervousness? Another pregnancy delight?

When she knocks softly on the door and steps inside, she’s greeted by the radiating-happiness face of her sister. Sandra is sitting in bed, with one baby in her arms and the other in a crib next to her. 

“Hey,” Laura smiles back at her, stopping next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel better now, for sure,” she looks back at the small face poking out of the blanket. “Everything went fine. But I can’t recommend giving birth to two babies.”

“I’m glad everything went well. They’re beautiful,” Laura says softly, going around the bed to the other side so she can watch the other baby. She briefly wonders how they’re going to be told apart, then notices bracelets around their wrists with their names. That does make it easier.

“I think so too. You can pick him up if you want.”

Laura’s eyes widen slightly. She knows how to hold a baby, she does, but he’s so small and fragile and… okay, just pick him up. Gods. So she reaches into the crib and lifts the newborn, holding it close and smiling down at him.

As she holds him in her arms, watches his tiny clenched fist, she finds something that escaped her before.

That feeling upsetting her stomach and making her heart race was panic. She's not used to panic, doesn't usually lose her cool.

She didn’t panic when she held Romain two years ago, but now is so different she could cry. Every milestone makes what’s happening more and more real, and holding a day-old baby is one of those. In just a little while, she won’t be just a visitor coming to see someone else’s infant, and then leave for home. That baby will be hers. A tiny human entirely depending on her for survival and happiness. Gods, she’s not ready for that, not that her body cares whether she's ready or not.

As if sensing her thoughts, or rather observing how her face fell, Sandra says, “Don’t worry, it’s not that hard. The baby tells you a lot of what he needs.”

Laura doesn’t reply, engrossed in watching the baby breathe, which isn’t something she thought she’d have such an interest in. 

“I’m so excited for our kids to be close in age like that. They’re going to be tight.”

“They’re only going to be three months apart,” Laura says, just for her head to realise how this would be her soon. It doesn’t seem to want to wrap its synapses around that fact. Tears well up in her eyes and she blinks them back when the baby in her arms becomes blurry. “Where’s Josh?” she asks, for a distraction.

“At home with Romain. He’ll be back tomorrow to take me home. I don’t know how-” Sandra stops abruptly and looks back down at her son.

“You don’t know how what?” Laura asks, her finger brushing the baby’s hand. She realises she’s still standing and drops down on the chair by the bed, making it more comfortable for her body holding two babies.

“Sorry, I didn’t think.” Her voice makes Laura finally look up, albeit reluctantly. “I wondered how people can do that alone.”

Laura shakes her head slowly. “It’s fine. I knew what I was getting into. Please don’t tiptoe around the subject with me.”

“Why didn’t you move in together? He’s coming to Saturnalia dinner at Cheryl’s, isn’t he? I’ll talk to him then.”

“Did you listen when I said I was going to be fine?”

Laura’s mind started to do that annoying daydreaming thing of her and Bill moving together, sending a stab through her heart. when the baby in her arms wriggles and a yawn disturbs his face, rendering her mind blank of anything that isn’t her adorable nephew. Why are things so much cuter on babies? That doesn’t seem fair, but she enjoys it immensely. “You’re so sleepy,” she whispers in wonder, rubbing that same finger that was on the baby’s fist up and down his arm. He closes his eyes, and she does, too, for just a second. Things are going to be all right. They have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no baby names idea, forgive me haha!  
> All will be well, I promise ❤️


	14. Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone knows the canon name of Laura's dad, please send it my way! In the meantime, I've gone with James since that was Carter's first name and Laura's name in the show came half from Carter, half from Bush, anyway the nerd is out now haha!

**Week 28**

"Dad, you shouldn't eat that." Laura was quiet for a while, sitting in the corner and hugging one of her week-old nephews to her chest, and her father jumps and looks at her guiltily when she speaks. 

"Says who?" He challenges.

"Your heart surgery. Remember that tiny thing last year? You probably don't, it was nothing."

At her father’s indignant huff, Laura cocks an eyebrow.

“It’s a small piece of bacon. I’ll be fine,” he argues. 

“Laura’s already a mother,” Cheryl remarks as she, too, steals a streak of bacon from the table. “Look how she’s babying you.”

“I’m sure that by babying, you mean keeping him alive.” Laura’s tone makes the baby in her arms stir, and she looks back down at him. This one is Mateo, she reminds herself. They have different outfits today, which is a big help in telling them apart. 

“Anyway, we’re ready to eat.” 

Laura gives the baby back to Josh and gets up, realising that this task is getting increasingly difficult. Hopefully this won’t get worse and leave her stranded like a turtle on its back. She was the one supposed to host this year’s dinner, but that was without taking into account that she’d meet Bill in a bar and be six months into carrying his daughter by the end of the year. Now they’re at Cheryl’s somewhat cramped apartment, prompting a row of complaints from her youngest sister.

She takes a seat at the table, ending up next to her dad again who looks at her suspiciously. 

"Where's that pilot of yours anyway?" he asks.

“I’m sure your memory was working fine when I told you.”

He sneers. “Right. Work.”

Laura rolls her eyes. James Earl Roslin and his legendary distaste for the military. “Yes, that’s the thing we have to do for a while before we retire.”

“I’m not sure how long they’ll sleep so let’s eat,” Sandra declares as she comes back and sits down. “What are we gossiping about?” she grins, rubbing her hands together. 

“Laura’s pilot that she doesn’t want me to see.”

Sandra nods seriously. "He's in love with her so he's staying away." Laura’s about to protest but her sister holds up a hand. “Honey, you need glasses.”

“What?”

“He’s in love with you, we can all see that, even Cheryl,” she smirks at Cheryl who glares back at her. “That’s all of us thinking he does, against you.”

“Good thing my feelings are not subject to a vote.” Laura shrugs and distracts herself by digging into her food, which smells wonderfully of garlic and roasted potatoes. Cooking the family recipe for roast beef has been a Saturnalia tradition for longer than she remembers - thank the Gods she’s past getting sick at the thought of food.

“He also wants to practice making more babies with you.”

“Sandra Kathryn Roslin,” their father thunders, making Laura laugh and hide it behind a cough, even as the giggles keep shaking her chest. All three women are long past being reprimanded, but it doesn’t matter, he does it anyway. 

“It hasn’t been Roslin for a while, dad,” Sandra answers cheekily. “I think Laura’s not gonna keep her name long either.”

“I’m keeping my name,” Laura argues before she can think about it. She blames insomnia for her brain’s malfunction and not crafting her sentences like she usually does.

“I’ll keep a note that you didn’t say no. But seriously, Laura, just because you met by accident doesn’t mean it can’t work.”

“Mum and dad met by accident,” Cheryl adds and with that, everyone’s in it, bar from both of her sisters’ husbands who won’t come anywhere near the conversation. Smart choice. They’re talking about the latest pyramid tournament, and Laura wishes she could join that group instead. What’s so interesting with her life anyway? Someone in that room just had twins last week, but somehow her own love life is the only worthy topic.

“Please don’t tell that story again. I’ve heard it three hundred times and somehow, it gets more epic every time,” Laura groans. The story of how their parents met is a legend in the household: both on separate dates in a restaurant, their father sat down at the wrong table, and never left. It was another time.

"You make no sense," Cheryl concludes.

With a tired sigh, Laura decides that she’s had enough. "Can everyone not gang up on me today and mind their own business?” She’s old enough to make her own decisions, isn’t she? They all act like it’s so simple, like she can just get together with Bill and live happily ever after. But if it goes down and they end up hating each other, this isn’t the environment she wants to raise a child in. And lately, the anxiety of becoming a mother has plagued her days and nights enough as it is.

Sandra takes pity on her and changes the subject. “Romain keeps trying to pull the babies’ arms. We can’t leave him alone with them for five seconds. I’m seriously considering the fact that he hates them.”

“It’s jealousy,” their father replies. “Laura didn’t like to share either at first. But she never came close to wanting to kill you. Although maybe if we’d let her...”

Laura can’t help but snort. “Now I’m a baby murderer. Nice.”

Thankfully, the conversation stays away from her for the rest of the day, except to talk about her classes, which she always eagerly addresses.

#

Getting to the supermarket is starting to be a superhuman task. First, she has to find time for it, and then energy. There’s making a list, steering the cart in the right direction - it hit her right in the stomach once when she stopped abruptly and she freaked out at the thought of hurting the baby- and carrying groceries. And then there’s avoiding irritating encounters, which she’s usually lucky with, but not today.

“Laura?”

Laura takes a breath before she turns around, suspecting it’s going to be an unpleasant meeting. She’s faced with who she remembers to be the wife of Bill’s friend. Ellen. How is that Bill’s friend exactly? This woman is only a shark who slides in and opens the wound wider once she smells blood.

“Oh hello. Ellen, is that right?” Laura asks, even though she remembers it perfectly. 

Ellen gives a short laugh, having obviously not believed that she’d be forgotten. “I wasn’t sure it was you. You’re so much larger.”

Laura grits her teeth but offers a polite smile. “That’s generally what happens, yes. Babies grow.” 

“That they do. So… I thought we should get together sometimes, the two of us,” Ellen says, but her grin is dangerous. 

“Do you have a problem with me?” Laura asks bluntly, making the other woman laugh again, tossing her blonde curls back. 

“I hear Bill wants to spend more time on the planet. So, what’s your secret?”

Laura pushes her cart aside to let someone walk past. “I don’t have a secret.” 

“Are you insanely good in bed?” Ellen asks, then seems to think better of it. “No, you can’t be. That’s not it.”

Laura tilts her head slightly, raises an eyebrow. She’s not going to get sucked into the obvious provocation. She’s actually one minute away from pretending to go into labour at six months to avoid having to listen to more of the woman’s insinuations. “How is my personal life any of your concerns? I told you, I don’t have a secret. If you have a problem with your husband, you should ask him.”

Yes, that’s rich coming from her, since she hasn’t asked Bill for anything herself. But she’s not going to share that detail. 

“The boys and their fleet, right? They definitely love it more than us,” Ellen looks at Laura as if expecting her to say something to that, but then continues, “anyway,” she smiles once more. “when’s the baby due?”

“April.”

“Isn’t that when they’re on that volunteer mission?” Ellen asks, barely holding back the scheming expression on her face. 

“What volunteer mission?”

“Something to do with Cylons. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

She’s definitely sure. Functioning on two hours of sleep isn’t enough for this kind of talk. Pretending to have to urgently go to the hospital, however, gets more appealing by the second.

“I know, because Saul volunteered, which means Bill isn’t far.”

“I’m not feeling very well, I better head home,” Laura cuts in, not even trying to be convincing.

She left quickly after, and couldn’t but wonder if Bill had truly signed up for something around her due date. He wouldn’t, would he?

#

**Week 29**

Four weeks is a long time to mull over his doubts, Saul’s words, Laura’s. And yet, as Bill sets foot on the planet again, he feels it’s still not enough. One thing he knows for sure, not being able to see or talk to Laura in that long is like dying a slow death.

There’s a package and a few letters waiting for him when he gets to the -rundown building where he  _ technically  _ stays when he’s planetside. The package is a box that’s neatly wrapped, and he rips it open as he climbs up the stairs. The couple in the apartment across from his is still screaming at each other, and the one under seems to keep his trash in the corridor. Nothing’s changed here.

He unlocks the door and throws the letters on the table. Inside the box in his hands is a camera; the cheap one he bought a few years ago on his and Carolanne’s first trip together. It became a sort of ritual to take it everywhere with them, so it held some of their best memories. There’s a note stuck to the side of it.

__ Forgot to give this back to you. Good times.  
_ Call me.  
_ __ C

She’s called several times when he was off duty, but he’s always forgotten, or has pushed back returning the calls. There’s not a whole lot to say, but considering that, out of their five - or is it six?- break-ups, it’s the first time he’s drawing away, she has trouble accepting it. The malfunctioning switch that’s their relationship might have stopped altogether, this time. He pushes back calling her again as he sets the camera on the table.

The letters are mostly bills and reminders of bills. A crashing noise outside makes Bill’s eyes snap to the window before he remembers that this street is known for hosting regular fights and settling of scores. That window has never even opened, too, jammed since he’s started renting the place. 

This place is a frakking mess, and it suddenly hits him like a bolt of thunder, that Laura has made her nest, moved houses, bought furniture, and he’s still there, in that crumpled shoebox. No baby should ever have to see this. What was he thinking? The front door is barely thicker than a sheet of paper and he’s hard-pressed to find something that isn’t broken. This place was never meant to be somewhere he’d feel at home, just a container for his stuff and the mail he receives, but this is changing now.

There’s no way Laura will let him take an infant to this slump. There’s no way  _ he _ ’d actually do that. No adult should even be subjected to it.

He groans and tugs at the collar of the uniform he’s still wearing. He’ll have to see the baby at Laura’s place until he finds a solution. But then again, with the amount of time he’s actually here, there’s not that much of a point to anything resembling joint custody. 

In his mind, the real reason he hasn’t given his lodgings a thought, however, is that he assumed their child would grow up with both of them, together. A ludicrous, but unyielding dream. Maybe it can still happen.

#

It’s only 7PM when Bill reaches Laura’s house, and he lets himself in like he’s done several times before. Having the key to her home feels so intimate, and every time he’s used it so far, his chest tightened with the trust she put in him. 

In the dark and quiet entryway, he calls “Laura?”

No answer, but as he walks further into the living room, he sees the soft glow of a light on upstairs. 

The door to the baby’s room is open, and he knocks on it, hoping to avoid startling Laura. She’s sitting on the floor in front of some pieces of the crib. Her hair is up in a ponytail, leaving her neck exposed, and he gets the strong desire to press his lips to the delicate skin. He shakes the thought out of his head. 

“I heard you open the door,” she says, shuffling around until she can see him. He walks further into the room and lowers himself on the floor in front of her, immediately struck by how drained she looks. Rings under her eyes speak of how little sleep she’s been getting, and worry tugs at his heart.

“I hope you don’t mind that I-”

She waves him off. “No, that’s why I gave it to you.”

“How are you? And I mean you.”

“Tired.”

When she replies, Bill realises he expected her to say she was fine again, even though she clearly is not. But maybe she’s even too tired to pretend and keep him at bay. That can’t be good.

“I missed you,” he says, taking Laura’s hand in his and he’s rewarded with a light smile.

“I missed you too,” she replies, then frowns, looking down at their hands. “Bill, about last time. I want you there, with me. I don’t know…” she sighs, blinks slowly. “What I meant to say is, I want to be with you. I just don’t want you to feel obligated. Trying to figure out what to do with us isn’t easy.”

Bill shakes his head. “Laura, look at me,” he commanded, and she did. “I  _ am  _ obligated. But it’s not a bad thing, and you’re not responsible for that. It’s because of the choices I made. I chose you, I chose to be there for you and the baby, you didn’t force me. I even distinctly remember you saying that you didn’t need me, and that telling me was a courtesy.”

Laura chuckles faintly. “I remember that. I might need you a bit. I can’t even put this frakking crib together.”

“I told you I’d do it. It can be my tomorrow project.”

“What if we give this a try and it doesn’t work out?” 

“I don’t know, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth a try.” Bill moves so that he’s facing Laura’s side, and pulls her to lean against his chest. “You look exhausted,” he eventually ventures into saying. She doesn’t look like she’ll tell him off for worrying, for once.

“I can’t sleep. Between the baby waking up when I go to bed and making it known, and… the thoughts of being a parent, it’s like I don’t know how to fall asleep anymore,” she admits and he drops a kiss into her hair. 

“Can I do anything for you?” he asks.

“Tell me about your mission, Major. I’m glad that you were promoted. From what I understand, it’s a big step.”

He smiles at her request and the mention of his shiny new title, and gently strokes up and down her side. “It is one. And I would, but I’m not allowed.”

Laura straightens up slightly so she can turn her head to look at his face. “That secret, huh?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She waits another moment before asking. “Will you read to me? They say the baby can recognise voices, and I want her to hear yours. I think it might help me, too.”

“I’m glad to know my voice puts you to sleep,” he teases, and feels her body shake with laughter. She wants the baby to hear his voice. That thought alone makes him burst with joy.

“It’s a compliment, right now,” she remarks.

“Of course it is. But maybe not a mystery, we don’t want her hearing about murders so soon.”

Laura visibly shudders. “Oh gods no.”

Bill resists the impulse to talk about murder mysteries some more, walking a fine line between teasing and horrifying the spent mother-to-be. He gets to his feet and helps pull Laura up with him.

“I’ve had better ideas than sitting on the floor,” she grunts and walks out of the room.

While Bill picks up a book from Laura’s collection, she gets ready for bed, despite it still being early. At this point, she could sleep for three days straight. She rests on her side and he sits beside her on the bed, one hand holding the book and the other resting on top of hers on his thigh. She falls asleep by the end of chapter two, hand going lax and breathing evening out. He watches her for a while, reflecting on the meaning of home.


	15. Re(building)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Certified 100% tooth-rotting, sickeningly-sweet, idiots-in-love fluff!

The first thing Bill registers upon waking up is something warm on his lips. His confused brain can’t make out what it is, until he remembers staying the night at Laura’s house. He didn’t plan to, but as he watched her sleep peacefully, he found that leaving took more strength that what remained in him. 

Upon the realisation that it’s Laura’s lips that keep pressing on his and withdrawing, he smiles and catches the bottom one between his teeth. Her surprised gasp prompts him to open his eyes, wanting to see the look on her face. He releases her lip and soothes it with his tongue.

“Good morning.” Laura’s face is just above his, her hair tickling his neck. 

"Good morning," he replies, voice rough with sleep and near-instant desire for her. 

He didn't take pyjamas for the night so has slept naked, something he's grateful for now that Laura's wandering fingers are traveling down his chest and settling on his stomach, idly tracing patterns. 

"Someone's feeling better," he remarks, half a statement and half a question. She looks like she could still use some sleep, the bags under her eyes still present, but her eyes got some life back in them, and she's smiling. Still a victory.

"I've got you naked in my bed. I'm only human,” Laura says by means of explanation, and brings her lips to his again. Even sleepy as he still is, his body comes alive under Laura's touch, especially when she kisses him like that. He finds nothing intelligible to reply.

They take their time reconnecting, neither having to get anywhere today but in the other's arms. It’s different, this time, a taste of the holiday back home.

One of his favourite parts is when Laura doesn’t insist on putting her clothes back on when they’re done, instead snuggling back into him. His body moulds itself around hers, face nuzzling her neck and his arm curls around her stomach. Maybe she’s this comfortable because he can’t see her that much; maybe she’s accepted her new body a little more when he was away. Either way, he’ll enjoy it to the fullest.

They stay that way for a while, and Bill’s thoughts drift to the baby growing in Laura’s body, just under his palm. She’s not moving. Probably asleep. If she moved earlier, he would have probably worried about hurting her again, as ridiculous as it is. But there’s something about feeling her kicks and punches that keeps drawing him in.

"Was I that boring that she fell asleep?" he chuckles, peppering kisses across Laura’s shoulder.

Laura hums pleasantly, her hand joining his. "You weren't that boring to me…"

Bill bites gently at the skin between her neck and shoulder. "Your neighbours can attest to that."

She giggles, swats his arm, and they settle in comfortable silence once more, dozing on and off.

"Bill?" Laura asks at some point and he opens his eyes to see her turn around to face him. 

"Mmh?"

“We're doing this, aren't we?”

“I thought we just did.” He can’t resist the smirk that pulls at his lips, but Laura’s face remains serious. “Yes, we’re doing this.”

“I want our daughter to have the happy environment that I grew up in, with parents who love each other.”

Frak. He’s waited for the perfect moment for weeks, all the while knowing that it doesn’t exist, but it sure feels like it now. Which can only mean one thing: No backing out now. 

“That's good, because I love you.”

She smiles and kisses him tenderly, then pauses, “You don't think it's because I'm pregnant that we feel this, don't you?”

“Some research suggests that feelings can be heightened, but you can't heighten something that isn't there in the first place. I also read that being pregnant can just as well put a strain to the relationship, so I think we’re safe to assume our feelings aren’t going to go away when the baby comes.” 

Laura’s gaze is surprised, and he realises he’s given a longer explanation than he meant to. “Research? How much have you read exactly?” she asks curiously.

“As much as I could.”

That seems to be the right answer, because Laura’s lips are enthusiastically on him again.

The baby seems to wake up then and Bill can’t help the happy smile at the thought of meeting their daughter soon. He closes his eyes, trying to imagine her.

“What do you think she’s going to be like?” Laura asks, echoing his thoughts.

“I hope she gets your smarts and your looks,” he replies, the image of a mini Laura with her flowing red curls and quick wit popping up in his mind. It’s an indulgent thought, but he doesn’t care.

“Nothing from you? Then you’re going to say she’s not yours again.”

“Will you stop with that?” she looks into his eyes, sees he’s not actually upset and grins. “Of course I believe you. But at this point, whether she’s mine or not is irrelevant. I love her, she’s mine, and that’s that.”

Laura’s eyes quickly fill up with tears, making Bill worry what he said made her sad. He reaches to gently wipe her cheek with the pad of his thumb, and she turns her head to kiss his palm. “I’m happy you’re here. I want this to work.”

“So am I.” A stomach growls, and Bill has no idea whose it is, but it makes him chuckle. “Food?”

Laura nods. “I think it’s too late for breakfast, but lunch sounds good.”

They end up having breakfast, even if they call it lunch, and sharing stories of what happened in their weeks apart. After eating, Bill insists on putting the crib together, weeks, if not months after having bought it, and they relocate to the baby’s room.

“Thank you for helping me sleep last night. I could use that more often. And putting me to sleep is good practice for you to do the same with the baby when she’s here,” Laura teases.

“Should I try singing tonight then?” he offers, only partly joking.

“Are you trying to help or hinder?”

“I’ll try, and we’ll see.”

“I think you may be confused. I wanted you to help fight the insomnia, not feed it.”

“She’s gonna love it and be grateful, unlike her mother.” 

“Ungrateful, that’s me.” Laura dropped a kiss to Bill’s lips and looked at the pieces of the crib lying on the floor, her heart full with the significance of what they were doing. “Do you need help with this?”

“I might need your help with holding some pieces together, but in the meantime you put your lovely ass in that rocking chair and rest.”

Laura narrows her eyes in the way she does when she’s preparing a snarky retort, but then complies, sitting down with a book on her lap. “Yes, sir, but only because you said I have a lovely ass. I guess I like it when you lie now.”

Bill looks at the instruction manual for the crib, intent on sorting all pieces before starting. “It’s not a lie.”

Laura huffs and shakes her head, but doesn’t answer. There’s still a lot she doesn’t like, and he can’t push her too hard. She opens her book and starts reading, and he gets back to building the crib. It feels normal, being there together, domestic, like this is one of many days they’ll spend in this house, building things for their daughter, reading, talking. In a moment like this, the fear of failure almost goes away, pushed so far in the back of his mind it’s nearly nonexistent. 

When he’s almost put the outer frame together, Laura looks up, marking her page in the book. “Bill?”

“Yes?”

“I saw Ellen at the supermarket last week. I know better than to trust what she says, but for my peace of mind, you’re not planning to be away in April, are you? Any more than the usual work, I mean.”

At the mention of Ellen, Bill curses himself for having introduced them. What the frak was he thinking? “I’ll be part of a ceremony on the ship, but that’s two weeks before you’re due, and then I’ll be with you.”

“A ceremony?”

Bill shrugs. He may have forgotten to tell her about that. “They kind of round up those of us who were promoted at the same time and have some sort of show.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I want to be there.”

“Not two weeks before term. I don’t want our baby born in space.”   


Laura snorts. “Of course she won’t be.”

“No, she won’t be, because you’re staying here, keeping the both of you safe on the ground,” he says in a decisive tone, but is still baffled when she doesn’t argue further.

Laura gives up the fight too easily, which makes Bill wonder what she’s planned.

#

As soon as she gets out of the car, Laura regrets her decision to come along. She insisted on joining Bill to his place as he gets clothes for the night, but she shouldn’t have. He was right, she didn’t want to see it. This building doesn’t even deserve the name. She looks between it and Bill with a raised eyebrow and he shrugs. She heads for the lift, but he stops her.

“No one uses it. The two times I did, I was stuck for hours,” he explains. “Will you be okay? It’s on the second floor.”

It’s only twice what she always does at home, she’ll be fine. Thank the Gods he doesn’t live on the fifth floor, or she’d have had to stay in the car. Still, it’s not too pleasant, and she’s a little breathless when they reach the door. When Bill opens it and they walk inside, she pulls a chair from the table and sits down with a tired sigh. 

“Bill, just so we’re clear,” she pauses to take a sip of the water he offers her. “We are never, ever bringing our child here. She’ll get slaughtered.”

Bill has the nerve to chuckle, and she just fixes him with a serious stare. “Of course we’re not. Don’t worry.”

She studies her surroundings, taking in the crack in the wall near the front door. “ _ You _ shouldn’t even be here. Honestly, Bill, what were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?”

“For the amount of time I’m here, I don’t care- I didn’t care.” 

“Come live with us,” she says before she can think better of it, more an order than a request. “I’m going to need someone to help since I can’t see my feet anyway. Might as well be you.” 

“I’m flattered.”

Laura sends him a grin, and he makes his way over to kiss her. She reaches up and threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. He almost falls on top of her, catching himself with a hand on the back of the chair. The kiss lasts until Laura’s breathless again, but this time for a much better reason.

“A compelling argument,” Bill comments, straightening up, and she answers with a coy smile. 

He leaves for what Laura assumes to be the bedroom, and she sighs as she glances around. Can you even let men live by themselves? An object discarded on the table attracts her attention. It’s one of those cameras that were popular a few years ago, the ones with a screen to display the pictures you’ve taken. Intrigued, she picks it up, unsticking the note from the side. Her stomach clenches as she reads it, but it gets worse once she turns the camera on. Dozens of happy pictures of Bill and his ex - the one from the wedding - are stored in there, smiling and laughing faces attacking her eyes.

Call me, she wrote.

_ Call me? Really? _

Who the hell does she think she is sending her baby’s father things like that?

“Bill, what the frak is this?” she demands, and her tone disconcerts him. When he sees what she’s holding, his face falls. “Doesn’t she know about us?”

“She does. I was going to put that away,” he explains, taking the camera from her fingers’ hard grip. He put his hand in hers instead, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Laura narrows her eyes dangerously. “I’m neither of those things. I don’t want her anywhere near you.” 

Bill kneels in front of her, takes her other hand in his and looks into her eyes. "Now that I’ve finally got you, I’m not letting you go. I'm with you, and only you. You and Laura Junior.” Laura scrunches up her nose in distaste at the name, and his sly smile indicates that this is exactly why he did it. “She knows that, but I should've returned her calls to make it clearer. I've been busy, we are having a baby after all."

"Oh, we are?" Laura looks down at her bulging stomach. "I hadn't noticed. Are you sure?"

Bill presses his ear to her belly, and nods seriously. The sight makes Laura’s heart melt into a puddle. If the way he cares for her is any indication, he’ll be a great father. And she can always send her ex a note back. She has a few ideas of things to say… 

“I can definitely confirm that,” he declares with a kiss at her navel. 

Laura’s fingers lovingly caress the side of his face, and he gives her a tender smile in return. When she stifles a yawn, he gets back to his feet. “She told me her mother needed more sleep, too. She was very adamant about that. So I promised.”

“Well then, if you promised… let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poll time, you all!  
> Laura Junior will be here soon (should be Ch.17), and I have two potential birth ideas, so I thought I'd put it up to a vote. If you feel strongly about either one of those, please let me know! If you don't, then simply enjoy the ride ;)
> 
> Option 1: hospital on Caprica. The classic 'oh crap I'm in labour and my husband isn't there yet'. Could be fun, and of course Bill would make it in time - that is not a question.
> 
> Option 2: Laura sneaks into the ceremony that I made up on Bill's ship and surprise, gives birth in space with Cottle being grumpy and having to deal with it. Could also be fun (if only a little unrealistic that she'd both want to make the trip and be allowed to at 38 weeks pregnant, but shhh)
> 
> (posting next chapter will take me a few days again so you have time to decide)


	16. Socks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viper socks have made my crappy day better, so I hope you love them as much as I do haha (unapologetically cheesy scene there)
> 
> And thanks all for voting on our birth plan, and following on the majority votes, we'll have a space baby! I'll still incorporate the where-the-hell-is-Bill from option 1 though for added fun! (next chapter)

**Week 36**

Last week of class before leave.

Sitting on a chair at the front of the class, looking at the crowd of mostly attentive students every so often, Laura reads from her notes on the author who grew up on Canceron before moving to Picon at twenty and later relates their experience on the culture difference. She used to like walking in the alleys as she spoke, but it’s been a few weeks since she’s been able to do that. 

All she does these days is sit down, be uncomfortable, get up, take a walk, get tired and heavy and so very pregnant, and sit down again. Then the cycle repeats.

She wants to laugh at her first-trimester self who thought she’d be in class until labour. And not a small laugh. She really had no idea what having a baby inside of her would entail. The only thing she wants to do at the moment is soak into a warm bath and open a new book. But there's not been a lot of time for that recently. 

Not only is it her last week before leave, so there’s plenty to do, but teacher review week, too. She can’t stop thinking about that, which doesn’t help with the already-present anxiety about being a parent that keeps her awake at night. If she doesn’t perform well, that would give her boss a reason to fire her and she can’t have that. She’s sure that Adar, under all his sweet words, would pick her first to pack her things if he had to, seeing as she’s about the only woman in the department he hasn’t slept with. 

A tightening in her belly made her pause mid-sentence and press a hand to it. The baby didn’t seem to be moving, so it wasn’t her. Not directly anyway. The pinching went and quickly came back, not quite painful but uncomfortable. A fleeting thought ran through her brain and she froze.

Is this the start of labour? She’s still a few weeks away, this cannot be happening now. The journey did start in this classroom with her throwing up in the bin, so it would make sense that it ended there too, kind of a coming-full-circle sort of thing.

She gives students a question to discuss amongst themselves - always the answer when she needs time during class - and gets up, taking a few steps around. The feeling disappears, and comes back right at the end of class. So it’s not labour, otherwise it would have increased in intensity instead of leaving. She would be surprised if they were contractions, she’s always heard how painful those could be, and the uncomfortable feeling that went away when she changed positions was not that. She only really noticed it because she was paying attention to the baby’s movements.

It’s the last class of the day, thankfully, and after calling the doctor to check, she goes home. One thing that the doctor said stays with her as she leaves the university. Stress can be making those practice contractions worse. Bill is going to have a feast with that, telling her how she should’ve stopped working earlier, or take less classes, or this thing or other. Surely, there’s a way to keep that part out.

The light in the house is on and she has a second of panic at having an intruder in the place. Her brain remembers in time that Bill is here, on some training related to his new position on the planet for a few days. It’s strange to think of coming home to him. In the past few weeks, even as an actual couple in a real relationship, they didn’t have the proximity, the habit of coming home and being together all evening, telling each other about their day and arguing about what to eat for dinner. 

“Honey, I’m home,” she says just for the hell of it as she closes the door.

Bill smiles at her when he comes out of the living room and helps her out of her shoes. “Are we that couple now?” 

“I’m afraid we are.”

“Then let’s play it for real. How was your day, darling?”

Laura is about to giggle at that, but she remembers what happened and rubs her forehead. She makes her way over to the couch and sits down. 

“Laura?” Bill asks with a slight frown, losing the lightheartedness of his previous question.

“I’m fine, the baby’s fine. It’s been a long day, that’s all. I'm just so... big.”

Bill fetches a glass of water and settles next to her, his gaze trying to pierce through her soul and dig out all her secrets. “What aren’t you telling me?” he asks.

Laura accepts the water and rubs the top of her bump with a sigh. “I called the doctor and she said not to worry, so do not worry. It was just small practice contractions, as she said. It’s normal.”

Bill’s hand flies to be on top of hers, closer to their baby. Ever since he came back from that long mission, his hand hardly ever leaves her, and she finds it sweet how much he wants to be connected to the baby. That also means he bothers her a lot with telling her the small stuff she shouldn’t be doing. “But she hasn’t seen you about them. Didn’t she want to see you? When’s your next appointment?”

“In a few days.” 

“Good, then I’ll be there.” 

Laura shakes her head, giving him a flat look. “Are you seriously telling me you don’t think I’ll go unless you’re there?”

“Laura,” he sighs. “I know practice contractions can be worsened by stress.”

She groans quietly. “Sometimes I hate that you’ve looked everything up.”

“It’s the only way to keep you in check, isn’t it?”

They settle into silence and Laura leans her head against Bill’s shoulder after a while, closing her eyes. His touch is nice and warm, and she could just fall asleep… in fact, that’s what she’s doing until she hears Bill’s voice again talking to the baby. “Your mother’s the worst,” he says softly. “Somehow, I still love her. Don’t know how that happened.” 

“Are you already trying to turn her against me? That’s low,” she says quietly. 

“I hope that what she’ll get from me is the ability to make sensible decisions.” Bill turns his teasing smile to Laura who rolls her eyes. He stands up and holds out his hand to help her. “Like the one to get you into a hot bath. Come on.”

“I’ve been dreaming about one all day,” she admits and takes Bill’s hand to pull herself up. “But don’t go too far, I’ll need help getting out too.”

“I won’t leave you at all.”

Together, they move to the bathroom and get the water running and Laura out of her clothes. She settles in the bathtub and lets out a long sigh as she gets immersed in the warm water. After the long day, she can’t think of anything better. It could be hotter, actually, that would be better. She used to take scorching hot showers and baths, and now isn’t allowed that anymore with the baby. Warm is good enough for now, and does a perfect job soothing the aches in her entire body. 

“Next week, you’ll be off work, right?” Bill asks, and it’s so clear this is the only thing he’s waiting for that she almost snorts. She expects she’ll be bored out of her mind, but it will at least be a lot less tiring to be home instead of walking around university. 

“Mmh,” she hums in response, not opening her eyes and making him chuckle. It takes several minutes for her brain to give an actual answer, even though he gave up on one after the first attempt. If she can relax, then she doesn’t need to do anything else. “Talking to my replacement in a few days,” she whispers. “Then I’ll be home.” Or rather, if Adar can use his political ties to get her a pass and she can pretend to be press, she’ll be on Bill’s ship for his ceremony. But better not to tell him now and spoil the surprise.

Bill nods, his fingers trailing along her arm that rests on the side of the tub. “Sounds good to me. I… walked past a baby shop this morning.” 

Laura opens an eye. They’ve got everything they’ll need already. That was one list Laura did not like much - there kept being more and more stuff to add on there. She thought of the basics at first, clothes, diapers, stroller, toys, but not of the items that came on top of everything right at the end, like breast pump or burp cloths. By the time Sandra reminded her about nursing pillows and mittens, Laura was about done with shopping and didn’t want to hear about it ever again.

But Bill was extraordinarily patient through it all, picking up all the stuff that didn’t need both of their presence, and still finding extra energy to walk into more baby shops. But then, he’s not so large he can’t see his feet when he stands, so he’s got that going for him. 

“I got her some shoes. And socks,” he continues, and smiles at the amusement in Laura’s eyes, somewhat relieved. “I couldn’t resist. And a book about a monkey going on adventures in the Scorpian jungle.”

“Do you need me to walk you to the base next time so you don’t get tempted?” she teases, secretly thrilled that he’s so excited. “You do know she won’t need shoes until she starts walking. I know she’ll be a genius, but she won’t be walking right out of the womb.”

Bill shakes his head and stands up from his position on the bathroom floor. Laura watches him curiously as he leaves, wondering if he took it the wrong way, but then he proudly comes back with the new items. The tiny pieces of baby clothing look even smaller in his large hands.

It’s suddenly very clear why he bought them, and Laura can’t help but laugh. There are little vipers all over the tiny white socks, which, of course, is absolutely adorable, and the shoes are designed in such a way that it looks like the baby’s feet slide right into the cockpit.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think that it’s a nice try, but you’re not going to bully our daughter into becoming a viper pilot.”

“Bully is a strong word,” Bill protests, putting one of the socks down on Laura’s bulging stomach, one of the parts of her that sticks out of the water. 

“And I stand by it,” she reaches to grab the sock, putting it back in Bill’s hand so it doesn’t get wet when she moves. “And I’m glad the book you got isn’t about vipers too. That’s progress.”

“Monkey is the pilot’s callsign,” Bill says in all seriousness, and Laura looks at him unimpressed. “It’s a regular monkey. With wings. And a cockpit. Maybe not a regular monkey.”

Just for that, Laura splashes him with bath water, most of it ending up on the tanks of his uniform and wetting the fabric. She’s not unhappy with the result. “Oops. I guess you have to take those off,” she declares not too innocently, giving him a flirty grin. 

“Oops, huh?” 

“Mmh yes.”

He stands up, takes the clothes off, and bends down to kiss her. Tongues are quick to meet, and Laura brings a wet hand to the back of Bill’s neck, drops of water trickling down his back. 

“You don’t have to get all of my clothes wet for me to take them off,” he remarks with one more peck to her lips.

“Accidents. I’m very clumsy sometimes,” Laura shrugs and sits up further. “Help me out of here?” 

#

**Week 37**

When they come, earlier than Laura expected, reviews are mostly positive, except for this one student who claims she has some fascist tendencies. You really can’t please everyone. With that out of her mind, she compiles her notes, books, assessments, lesson plans and schedule for Maya, the department’s newest addition, to take over her classes. When she comes to Laura’s office, she receives the heavy load and a somewhat relieved and grateful smile.

“Thank you,” Laura says as Maya sits down. “I know my students will be in good hands. If you have any questions, feel free to call me. I’ll do my best to help.”

“I will, thank you. It looks like you’ve made it relatively easy for me.” Maya glances at the pile of documents that Laura’s sorted and even colour-coded. “So when’s the big day?”

“Three weeks now.”

“Are you excited?”

“Very. Oh, be careful, on Mondays at 4 p.m. we’re actually changing rooms next week. Something about renovations.”

“Ah, good to know, thank you,” Maya checks the schedule on top of the pile and grabs a pen to note down the new information. “It wouldn’t do to get lost on my first class here.”

“You’ll do great, don’t worry,” Laura says reassuringly, remembering her own first class. Somehow, she didn’t manage time too well, and was done with what she’d planned within half an hour. But it eventually gave way to a very engaging class discussion, so she considered that a win.

“And you don’t worry about them. I hope you’ll bring your angel in when you’re back, so we can meet her.”

Laura nods, but her mind goes elsewhere. The next time she’ll come to the university, she’ll be a mother. That’s a strange thought. But where will the baby be? After being with her in the womb for nine months and a few more weeks at home, she can’t imagine leaving her daughter somewhere she’s not to go back to class. That’s in the future, though. She’s not even out here yet. 

After her last teachers’ meeting, Laura comes back to her office to pick up her bag and finds a note slipped under her door. First of all, whoever did that has no regard for the fact that she’s long lost the ability to bend down and pick things off the floor, but it makes sense once she recognises her boss’s scrawly handwriting. He’s never liked her being pregnant anyway.

A passing student helps and hands her the slip of paper. 

_ Here’s what you wanted.  
_ _ Enjoy the holiday. _

Holiday. She shakes her head and pockets the note and accompanying pass, her ticket to the ceremony. The thought of Bill’s face when he sees her in the crowd watching makes her smile as she goes home. 


	17. Dear baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is deliciously sappy and... I may be emotional

**Week 38**

The days leading up to the trip feel endless, and Laura has plenty of time to doubt her decision. Is this really safe for the baby? She shouldn’t do it; Bill wouldn’t want her to either. What if the baby comes early? The chances of that aren’t very high, but still. There will be other opportunities, ones when she’s not so pregnant and can actually walk more than five minutes without needing a break. 

She almost made the decision not to go, but in the end, she’s not quite sure what makes her give up reason and logical arguments in favour of a trip to space; maybe it’s the nightmares, especially the ones featuring Bill marrying the beaming blonde from the photos. Realistically, she knows those bad dreams are merely a reflection of her waking fears, and she’s not going to lose the baby or die while giving birth and Bill isn’t going to leave her. On the physical side, she’s fine, so there’s no reason to coddle her. All the more reason to do this.

It will be safe, it’s just a few hours up there, and space travel is statistically safer than being in a car. She’ll be on that ship where Bill spends most of his time, see him get recognition, and then down to Caprica again. Really, what’s the worst that can happen? ...she very much tries not to answer this question. 

Now that she’s there, the thrill of excitement at managing to sneak in far outweighs the lingering worry. The ship’s commander gives a speech about honour and the quality of the promoted officers who all stand, unmoving for the whole duration of the address. Laura became used to seeing Bill’s face relaxed around her these past few months, but now he stands there, serious and impassive. 

Laura is not jealous. It’s not like her, but she thinks of the camera that Bill’s ex sent him, and wants to capture every moment of his accomplishment, take a lot of pictures and start a tradition of their own. It's not a competition with the woman and her camera, of course, but if it was, then Laura would come out on top. 

She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, stomach tight and mildly painful - like it had been on and off since the beginning of speeches - but follows with rapt eyes as Bill gets new insignia. He looks towards the crowd composed mostly of his peers, and for a moment, Laura wonders if he’s seen her sitting with the civilian press, but then he turns away, and she thinks perhaps not. She rubs her belly with a small frown.

She’s had no chance to talk to Bill so far, and realises she might not get any. He doesn’t know she’s here and therefore will not look for her, and she won’t be allowed to follow him wherever he’ll go next.

The Colonial Anthem plays, and everyone stands up, giving Laura the welcome excuse to change positions; that usually worked in the past few weeks with practice contractions, but now has barely any effect. She’ll definitely call the doctor once she’s back on the planet and ask if this is normal. 

The floor suddenly shakes a little, and alarms blare. She winces, and whether it is from the pain in her stomach or the shrill sound, it doesn’t matter. Holding on to the back of the chair and trying to breathe, she doesn’t realise civilians are being directed out of the room.

Someone lays a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I just need a second.” The pain recedes, and she stands straight again.

“Do you need to see a doctor? They have one here, I was told,” the man offers. He’s from Picon Star Tribune. She remembers him from the flight.

“No, thank you,” she shakes her head. “I’ll see mine when we’re back on Caprica.” 

“They’re not letting the ship leave until they deal with whatever’s happening. You know, my wife had our son two weeks before he was due. It was a surprise,” he laughs, as if that was funny. 

Frak him. That’s not what’s happening. 

With a polite smile but a definite glare, Laura makes a point of walking away from him and to the door. The officer accompanying them as they make their way to a waiting room says there was an incident, but refuses to share more. It’s probably a common occurrence, Laura reasons, as the baby doesn’t seem to like her worrying about Bill. They stay there a while, and the alarms finally stop destroying everyone’s eardrums. That doesn’t mean they’re let out of there, though.

When the same feeling occurs yet another time - she refuses to call them contractions, not yet - Laura finally resolves to ask where the infirmary is. Maybe she can lie down there for a bit until their ship is allowed to leave. That would be a relief from the pressure in her abdomen and the pain in her back. The young officer who stayed with the group escorts her to sickbay, asking the usual questions of a curious stranger, among which ‘when are you expecting her?’ Hopefully not right now.

What they call sickbay looks almost like a hospital room, making Laura feel slightly better, although she’s not sure exactly what she’d imagined. She’s directed to a bed and asked more questions related to identity, why she’s here, and how she's feeling. The nurse looks slightly flustered - they might not get a lot of women at this stage of pregnancy on a military ship.

The doctor - Cottle, the nurse said - seems to be a peach, judging by the curt remarks she overhears. When he pulls the curtain open and walks in, the thick smell of smoke makes her nauseous, and she holds a hand in front of her mouth. He looks at her and she stares back until she opens her mouth again, confident she won’t throw up on the floor. “Do you know where Bill Adama is?”

“Ah. He did say his wife was pregnant. Rumour has it you’re the reason he’s been down here so little over the last year,” Cottle says, sitting himself on a stool. “But you’re as hotheaded as he is.”

Laura lifts up her chin in defiance, but the effect is ruined by a new tightening in her belly. “I am not,” she still protests, trying to control her breathing.

“I’m sure you’re an intelligent young lady,” he eventually replies. “Do you want to tell me why you made such a trip in your state?”

“In my state,” Laura narrows her eyes. “I didn’t think this would happen. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t know where Adama is. You’ll be here a while anyway. Will send someone to look for him.”

“Are you trained for this?” she asks, and if he’s offended by that, he doesn’t show it.

“Been a while since anyone's given birth on my watch.”

“It's been a while since I've given birth, too,” she sighs, offers a smile.

Cottle gives a low chuckle and gets on with examining her, figuring out where she’s at and telling her what’s going to happen. Most of it she knows, but it can’t hurt to have a refresher. Her mind switches from disbelief to acceptance as he speaks, and she’s not scared, not yet, but if she’s having the baby, then Bill needs to be there. 

For a while, she’s too restless to stay in bed and keeps making the rounds, taking breaks every time she feels another contraction coming to breathe through the pain. Bill is still not there, and she grabs every single nurse she sees walking past and asks after him, but they don’t know anything. They keep repeating the same information about the accident on the lower deck.

She desperately wants him to be there, does  _ not  _ want to do this alone, but at the same time, he's going to be angry. Furious, even. He specifically said he didn't want his baby born into space. But he wouldn’t be this angry that he’d purposefully leave her there alone, so she keeps asking, because he needs to be told and get his ass there as soon as possible.

On the way back from her tenth trip from the bed to the wall, Laura hears someone being called ‘Commander’, and stops. Someone like that will know where Bill is. She’s past asking nicely by now, increasingly anxious and in pain and why the frak is nobody able to get him? 

“You. Please, wait,” she calls at the Commander’s retreating back. He turns around, looks at her, dumbfounded at the boldness of her address. “You’re the Commander, is that right?”

He studies her, and of course, his eyes linger on her bulging belly. “I am, and you are?”

“You must know Major Bill Adama. I need you to get him here for me,” she all but orders.

“Excuse me? Why and who are you?” he demands in response, and she suppresses a frustrated groan. There’s no time for his bruised ego.

“We’re having a baby.”

“Not on my ship, you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s too late for-” she closes her eyes a second, braces a hand against the wall. She really ought to get back to bed now. “-anything else. I need you to find him. Sooner rather than later.”

She watches the Commander open his mouth, close it, and then turn on his heels and leave, giving her no indication of whether he understood the urgency of the situation. 

Soon enough, everything gets too intense, and she can’t leave the bed anymore. This is happening, but she stubbornly refuses it, not while Bill isn’t here. Cottle comes back, checks the baby’s heartbeat and the advancement of her body’s readiness, and declares that it’s almost time. The glare she sends him could have pierced his skull. 

“Look, young lady, your body is as ready as it will ever be to deliver this child,” he simply states, “and if you don't start pushing soon, we're gonna have a problem. It’s for your safety and the baby’s.”

"No..." what's his name again? Is it Jack? She feels like it is. Or maybe it isn’t. "Jack, you’ll have to find Bill. I'm not doing this without him." Her voice is strained, but still holding on to her rapidly vanishing determination, as if she could pause this from the sheer force of her will. She can’t, and contractions only get more painful and intense, making her stomach heave.

She might have to do this on her own, but Bill is here, somewhere, and the Commander will find him. He has to.

#

Bill needs it repeated twice to him before it sinks in. “Laura’s here?” His tone is incredulous, agitated. She can’t be here. She can’t be here  _ in frakking labour.  _

He was up in the air, at first, and when the tumult was deemed accidental, relocated to the lower deck. No one seemed to have been hit, but the ship did take a blow. Others took care of the cleaning up, and he could have left, but noticed what suspiciously looked like a crack in the bulkhead. He followed it to the heart of the ship, finding more the further he went. It must have taken a while, because when he eventually resurfaces to a more frequented corridor, people behave as if he just came back from the dead. Immediately, he’s assaulted with the news. Apparently, his Laura being in sick bay is the talk of the ship.

_ Laura. The baby. Laura’s here.  _

The fact that it might all be a joke runs through his mind, but he takes the risk. If it is a prank, he’ll take all future teasing in stride, but if it’s not… and what is she doing here? Why? How?

So, now he runs all the way back to her, up ladders, through several levels, down busy corridors, a million questions swirling around his mind. 

It’s not a joke, he realises, as he walks into sickbay and Cottle stops him in his tracks. The doctor explains how the baby will be in distress if they don’t get this show on the road now and he looks concerned enough that Bill takes it seriously. He’s quick to nod, and pulls the curtain around Laura’s bed just enough to slip in.

He wants to be angry, wants to demand what the frak she was thinking, how in the names of the Gods she got on the ship, but one look at her face makes it all pointless. She's in pain, even though she tries to keep it contained, doesn’t want people to see. He'll have time for questions later, the why's and the how's, but she’s having their baby, and he needs to be the man who promised to support her through it all. Of course, when he said that months ago, he didn't think she'd make it difficult and give birth in space. 

Taking a deep breath, Bill steps up to the bed as a nurse joins them. "I'm here, Laura." She reaches for him and he takes her hand and holds it, kissing her knuckles. "How are you doing?" 

"I'm so relaxed I was about to fall asleep," she says quietly, but with a definite humorous edge.

Cottle shakes his head. “Sure would've given me some respite." 

“Bill, the incident. What happened?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all good.” He waves it off and drops a kiss on her forehead. “Everything’s fine. Let's meet our daughter, alright?"

Laura nods with a soft smile that warms his soul. Then her face contorts once more. She finally starts pushing when she’s prompted to, and Bill never lets go of her hand even as he can't feel his anymore. 

Her pained moan breaks his heart, knowing that he can't take it away from her. So he settles for holding her hand, whispering words of encouragement, of love, and thoughts on what their daughter will be like. Time doesn't register anymore, but at some point, she collapses back onto the pillows, panting, but the baby isn't there. 

"Give me a second..." she sighs, closing her eyes.

"I know you’re tired,” Bill says gently, searching for what to say, anything that would help her, anything she could draw some critical strength from. He strokes her forehead, pushing her hair back. "You can do this, Laura. I know you can. You're the strongest woman I've ever known. And you're so close. Look at me." His fingers graze her chin and she opens her eyes again. "You're the woman who gave orders to a Battlestar Commander. That's the kind of strength our daughter will learn from you, and she's almost there.”

Tears escape Laura's eyes and she nods once more, taking in a deep breath. In the final, draining pushes, their baby is born. For an agonising second, there's complete silence, and Bill's heart thunders in his chest as he waits. Then sickbay is filled with baby's cries and he releases a choked, relieved breath. There's still some work to be done, between the placenta and the cord, but most of it is out of the way, and as soon as everything critical is taken care of, their daughter is placed against Laura's chest. She's beautiful, and perfect and everything they ever dreamed of.

A new wave of tears is streaming down Laura’s cheeks, and as Bill's vision of his family blurs, he realises he’s mirroring her. That's okay. He couldn't hold the tears back if he wanted to. 

“You did it, Laura. She’s perfect.” he kisses Laura's temple and rubs his eyes to chase the tears away. “I'm so proud of you. Look at our daughter." 

"I love you.” Laura looks at him, filled with a surge of renewed energy at holding her baby, and the emotions in her glistening eyes take his breath away. 

"I love you, too." He smiles at her happily, flexing the fingers of his hand that's still numb even after several minutes.

She glances at his hand. "Sorry."

"Don't ever be sorry. You gave us a family,” he declares firmly. “And I have two hands anyway."

Laura gives him a tired smile before they both look back at their daughter resting on her bare breast. The baby relaxes against her mother after the exhausting journey out into the world and brings her tiny fist up and to lie next to her mouth. Her head slowly moves, she opens her eyes and it’s the most captivating thing.

"What are we going to name her?" Bill eventually wonders, stroking Laura’s shoulder with his thumb. 

“Please don’t say Laura Junior," she says, making him chuckle. The baby stares up at Laura who smiles at her and holds her close. “Isabelle.”

Bill raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Isabelle? That wasn't one of the final names we settled on.”

Laura gives a small shrug with one shoulder as not to disturb the baby who’s busy getting acquainted with her breast. “Like your grandmother? You said she died in the Tauron Civil War. You were named after her husband... I don't know, I saw her and I… remembered the story you told me. She feels like it would fit her. But we can stick with Olivia if you want.” 

"You remembered.” He smiles at her. Laura asked for the full story of his family one night she couldn’t sleep, but he didn’t expect her to remember anything from her state of exhaustion. “Isabelle." he accepts with a final nod. "I like it. Izzie suits her, too."

"I'm fine with that."

After the baby feeds for the first time, then falls asleep, Laura dozes off as well, exhaustion and the onslaught of emotion finally defeating her. Bill gets to hold his sleeping daughter for the first time, the fragile, amazing life they’ve created, and his heart grows ever larger with love for her. He does his best to be quiet to let her and Laura sleep, lecturing everyone who comes through the sickbay hatch, in hushed, clipped tones to shut the frak up and let them get some well-deserved rest.

He finds Doc Cottle some time later, refusing to let go of the baby even as his arms feel cramped. “Thank you, doc,” he says sincerely. “This has definitely been a day. Thank you for taking care of her-of them.”

Cottle only nods in response, mumbling something about his job. “She’s one hell of a woman," he adds after a minute, glancing back at Laura’s bed.

Bill can only agree to that, wishing the little one he holds closely to have that kind of strength. “Thank you,” he repeats, because Laura, grumpily in pain and annoyed that he wasn’t there must have been something to deal with, then asks. "How did the Commander react?" 

"You're here, aren't you? Means he listened to her. She came to him as if she was the President and he was a young man who was late to bring her coffee. Sooner rather than later, she said."

Bill gives a short laugh and the baby stirs against his shaking chest. He quickly settles down, watches her mouth move and her finger twitch. “He’s never gonna let me live this down.”

“Neither am I,” Cottle grumbles.

Bill shakes his head, knowing the doctor enough to know he wasn’t serious. 

Laura wakes up about an hour later, and smiles when she sees him sitting next to the bed. There’s a lot of things to consider for the near future, how to get back to the planet, for one, but they can’t bring themselves to think about those now, not when they’re wrapped in the sweet cocoon of their new family. Bill gives the baby back when Laura asks for her, and he half-sits on the bed next to them, wrapping an arm around Laura’s shoulders. 

"Bill?" she whispers after a few minutes.

"Mmh?"

"Remember what you said when we got out of the first appointment together?" she asks, but doesn't wait for his answer. He does remember making an awkward attempt at a proposal that sounded more like a business offer. The hand that isn’t holding the baby to her chest comes up to stroke Bill’s cheek, and his heart expands in his chest at the clear love in Laura’s eyes. "If you ask me again, I'll say yes."


	18. Every night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actual plot ended last chapter, but I'm such a fan of things coming full circle that I had to have the last words mirror the first one :)

It did start with one night. Drinks, a companion, an argument and a hotel room. 

But Laura is keeping that out of her wedding vows. She can’t share the details of that night, not the way they worked out their argument, the passion, the shared breaths; her dad is there, and so is Bill’s. Both would probably team up and have their skin if anyone told that story today. And Laura intends to live a long life.

She only meant to find the father of her baby, let him know about the situation, but they kept arguing and talking and a lot more of that thing she can’t talk about at the ceremony. She fell in love so slowly it took her months to realise it, and even longer to act on it. 

She still can’t remember much about that godsblessed night, but it doesn’t matter. Not anymore. She has his name, Adama with all those A’s, is even about to append it to her own, and they have the most precious treasure, a legend in the Colonial Fleet. Baby Izzie wriggles in Cheryl’s arms, drawing attention to herself every so often, the soft green dress she keeps grabbing fistfuls of matching Laura’s. There’s nothing to look for, this time. Everything she’ll ever need is there, in this room.

Married.

Almost.

Yes, almost. They’ve almost sealed what they started fifteen months ago. She cursed him then, cursed what they’d done, his smirk, his articulate answers, his hands, his tongue that haunted her thoughts. Tonight, after everyone leaves, she’ll curse again, for more of him; more of his heated kisses, more of his electrifying touch, more of everything he’ll be willing to give her. 

Bill clears his throat, looks at her curiously. Frak, she got lost in thought.

Focus, Laura. Vows first.

She never thought she’d end up falling for an inflexible military man, yet there she is. Her first assessment that this man both infuriated her and drew her in at the same time still holds true now. They may not have exchanged numbers back then - too drunk to do that, another thing not to say in front of dads - but something else ensured they’d meet again. She was presented with the challenging side of him first, the arguing, the pride, while the other unfurled over the next few months, the passion, the thoughtfulness, the care that runs so deep. And she knows she’s done the same to him, showing only detachment and obstination, until he wormed his way close enough to notice the loving, playful side of her. 

In the end, the birth control malfunction did them a favour, the 1% chance that everyone dismisses. 1% chance of falling in love, 1% chance of having the most beautiful and giggly little girl in the worlds. If she could’ve seen herself now, so irritatingly in love, back when she stared at the stupid smiley face on that stick… she’d have thought herself insane, and maybe she is. But this kind of madness has turned out to be quite enjoyable. 

As she stares into Bill’s loving eyes, feels his warm hand in hers, she reflects on the past six months as a family, and the previous nine as two people trying to do their best by their unborn baby, but crippled with doubt. This has been a journey.

Time comes for the final words, and now, there isn’t a shred of uncertainty in Laura’s voice.

_Now and forever. So say we all._

She smiles, and so does he. It’s another start. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sniffles* Thus ends the romcom I didn't know I needed. You have all been wonderful, thank you ❤️  
> Might have a "Forever and you" sequel in the future with snippets of family life with little Izzie, so feel free to drop your suggestions if you have any ;)


End file.
